The Dance of the Robot
by DracoMalfoy456
Summary: (ENDGAME SPOILERS!) Everyone ignored Tony Stark. His mother. His father. Even his mysterious, favorite (only) Aunt Peggy. And especially his mysterious Aunt Peggy's even more mysterious husband, whom he'd never even met before. (Or, if Steve Rogers went into the past to be with Peggy, surely he'd have to have met tiny Tony at some point, right?)
1. Tony

Hi all! So, Endgame destroyed me! Utterly! Completely! This fic was a coping mechanism, through and through.

I honestly expected this to be about 3,000 words at most, starting with Tony and Steve meeting, them being cute together, cue adorable times, end scene. But, since I'm me, I had to have 16,000 words of angst, making poor little Tony suffer. :-( So Steve doesn't even arrive until halfway through the fic. Sorry! I promise the rest is still good Tony and Jarvis/Peggy bonding, though. Baby Tony just deserves to be loved and hugged. :-(

I would like to take the time to remind everyone that this fic is strictly platonic. I do not ship Steve and Tony, but even if I did, this is a strict kid fic. There are moments that can, possibly, be seen as shippy, but please know I mean them completely platonically. I love Steve and Tony's friendship in the last movie, and I wanted to capitalize on that. And I figured, if Steve went into the past, he had to have met Tony at some point, right? I'll expand more on this point in the end notes.

Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy! Feel free to let me know about your Endgame feels, what you thought of the movie, if it left you as emotionally wrecked as it left me, etc. And if people like this story, I might be able to write a version in Steve's perspective, if y'all would like.

Enjoy!

* * *

Tags:

Relationships: Edwin Jarvis & Tony Stark. Peggy Carter & Tony Stark. Steve Rogers & Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark. Peggy Carter. Peggy Carter's Husband. Edwin Jarvis. Steve Rogers. Howard Stark (mentioned). Maria Stark (mentioned)

Additional Tags: Mild Hurt/Comfort. Kid Tony Stark. Kid Fic. End Game Spoilers Galore. Basically the idea that if Steve went into the past he'd have known kid Tony. Fix-It of Sorts

* * *

The Dance of the Robot.

* * *

Little Tony always loved spending time with Aunt Peggy.

It wasn't often he got to see her- she was a busy woman of course- but she always had the coolest stories and gave him the best candy. But, best of all, she never compared him to the famed Captain America. It was simple, but he loved that about her.

For all the time he spent with her, though, he knew very little about her. She helped start something called S.H.I.E.L.D. (which he learned about after hacking into his dad's computer, which had gotten him grounded for three months), that she was old friends with his dad, and that she was a complete badass. Oh, and she used to be Captain America's girlfriend, of course.

But besides all that, she was pretty secretive. She'd tell him stories about her old missions but would get squirrelly with details. Saying he was "too young," or "it was classified." He was ten years old, thank you very much! He was not "too young."

Hell, he didn't even know who her husband was. He knew she had one, as they had a couple children, and she would speak about him occasionally, but Tony had never met the man. He'd only seen her children on occasion, as well.

It burned Tony, not knowing. After all, he prided himself on knowing everything. He couldn't call himself Howard Stark's son if he didn't know everything, could he? He had to be the best. Had to be. Otherwise, what was the point of him?

Maybe that was another thing he liked about Aunt Peggy. She never made him feel like he had to be the smartest person in the world. Even his own mother, whom he adored, would expect great things from him. But not Aunt Peggy. She would just smile and act proud of him, but never push him farther than he was capable (not that he didn't enjoy pushing himself, but it did get tiring to be constantly bombarded with expectations from all sides). Yeah, he definitely liked that.

So it grated him, not knowing much about her at all. Not even Jarvis would tell him about Aunt Peggy and her Secrets (with a capital S, to show how Secret they were). And he could usually get Jarvis to tell him about /_anything_/. Jarvis was amazing like that. Another person who didn't constantly expect him to be the greatest.

Anyway, to put it point blank, it sucked not knowing. But, lucky for him, he had a plan.

The following week, his parents were going out of town, and Jarvis would be too busy taking care of his wife, who was sick, to be his sole caretaker. When he overheard his parents talking about where to send him (and yeah, he was supposed to be asleep, so them getting angry was to be expected, but come on, he should have a say in where he'd be staying for a whole /week/), he had begged to be sent to Aunt Peggy's. She had only ever taken him for a day or two at a time, but he had begged and pleaded, even called Aunt Peggy for her permission, and they finally caved.

So he had a week, a whole /week/ to figure out some things about his favorite (only) Aunt. He was bound to figure something out in that time. Like, maybe, who her husband was and why he'd never met the man.

Currently, however, Tony was hiding out in his room, his tongue stuck out in concentration as he fiddled with a toy robot he was building. It was coming along nicely, if he did say so himself. He was trying hard not to think about his father, or their fight from a few hours ago. His dad was always yelling at him about something or other, it barely even hurt anymore. So he told himself.

Humming lightly under his breath (/stop that, Tony, you're being insufferable/), Tony attached the final wire and grinned a gap-tooth smile, watching the little robot flail its arms. It didn't have a mind of its own (he was determined to one day create a working A.I., a robot that could actually /think/), but it was still pretty neat. It didn't do anything, just flailed around (danced, but that was stupid, who built a dancing robot?), but he liked it. Howard thought it a waste of time and energy, but so what? Tony liked it.

A knock sounded on his door, causing Tony to freeze. Debating whether he should pretend he hadn't heard, a voice called through the door.

"Master Tony? Are you alright in there?"

As the accented voice drifted through the door, Tony couldn't help but grin, both assured it wasn't his father there to yell at him more and happy at who it was. Jumping up, he opened the door and grinned brightly up at his favorite butler.

"Heya Jarvis! Come on, look what I made! Isn't it cool? It doesn't do much, just kind of flails about, but I was thinking of adding some lights to it, making it bigger, maybe, and then I could make it do flips! Of course, I'll need more scraps, but I'm sure I can sneak more from dad's lab before we leave tomorrow. Do you think he'd mind if I took some copper wiring? Probably, but I don't care, I'll take some anyway," Tony enthused, words flying a mile a minute. He tugged Jarvis closer, forcing the poor man to bend to the ground to see the little robot. To his credit, Jarvis didn't complain (he never did, Tony loved that about him, when he stopped to think about it), and just ooohed and awwwed as was appropriate.

"Well, I'll say, Master Tony, that is quite something! How long did this take you to make?"

"About half an hour," Tony shrugged, feeling a bit proud, and yet also apprehensive about his answer. He always felt a mix of both when talking about his inventions. After all, Howard never cared. Even when he had built his first robot at age four, Howard hadn't cared. Tony had long since stopped showing his inventions to his father. Dad was too busy chasing Captain America to care about his living son. But that was fine. Tony didn't care.

He couldn't help the surge of pride, however, when Jarvis gasped overly dramatically, eyes wide with admiration, like always, looking at his robot again.

"Well, I'll say! That's very impressive, Master Tony, truly! Why, I wouldn't be surprised if you surpass your father in intelligence one day! Don't tell him I said that, of course."

Jarvis gave Tony a soft smile, which Tony returned with a wide grin, jumping up in excitement, his little body unable to keep still.

"Do you think Aunt Peggy will like it?" Tony inquired, picking the robot up and turning it off, watching its flailing (dancing) limbs cease to move. Part of him clenched inside watching the thing cease its movement, which was silly. He pushed the feeling away as Jarvis stood up, much more sedately than Tony, the man nodding enthusiastically.

"Oh, very much so, Master Tony. She'll adore your robot. She always loves your inventions, you know. I believe she still has that clock you made her when you were five, the one that wakes you up with the scent of bacon? She'll be so proud of you, just as I am."

Grinning widely, Tony did his best to hide his pleased flush, putting the robot away on his shelf. Jarvis cleared his throat, so Tony turned back to him, eyes intent.

"Now, it is time for dinner, Master Tony. I've made you steak and mashed potatoes, the ones with cheese and bacon in it. After dinner, you can wash up and play some games. I insist you head to bed exactly at 9:00, though, as we must get up early tomorrow to get you to your Aunt's house, alright?" Jarvis spoke, eyebrows raised slightly in question. Tony made a face and rolled his eyes. He hated going to bed early, but he understood the logic. Part of him wanted to argue for the sake of arguing, but he was honestly too excited to spend time with his aunt to jeopardize it in anyway. With a resigned sigh, Tony agreed. But he wasn't happy about it!

Dinner went off without a hitch. Dad wasn't there, and mom had to leave early (one of her friends had to talk to her right then, at the moment, and could not be denied, no sirree), but the dinner itself was nice. And Jarvis kept him company, so that was a plus. Tony pushed down the pain that entered his young chest at yet another lonely meal and jabbered on and on about this or that to Jarvis. All it all, he supposed it was, indeed, nice.

Bed time was less nice. Tony hated having to sleep early, as his mind raced far too fast for him to force himself to sleep. Often, he'd just lie in bed for hours, waiting for the bliss of sleep to find him. He usually spent that time designing something, but he had promised Jarvis that he wouldn't that night, and he hated lying to Jarvis. Instead, he spent hours thinking about his upcoming week at Aunt Peggy's. He thought about the ways he would snoop around (carefully! He had long since mastered the art of sneaking, of course. He was silent as a mouse, honestly, he was), finding the information he desired. He wondered what Secrets Aunt Peggy had hidden, what skeletons her closets held.

Finally, around midnight, Tony managed to succumb to sleep, his dreams full of heroes and ice, and flashes of red and blue.

His alarm blasted hours later, forcing a groan out of him. It was so early, roughly 6:30 am, and he was still so tired. Just as he was about to roll over and fall back asleep, he heard a knock at the door. Barely a second passed before it opened, a soft British voice calling out.

"Master Tony? Are you awake? You must get washed up and head down to breakfast, we must leave in an hour. Can you hear me?"

Tony honestly considered ignoring the man, but ultimately decided that it would just make things harder in the long run. After all, Jarvis would just keep trying to wake him. With a groan, Tony sat up, stretching his little arms as far over his head as they would go, feeling satisfied when there was a POP of relief in his back. Spending so many hours hunched over various projects really wasn't good for one's back. Who knew?

He heard a chuckle from the door, which Tony stuck his tongue out at. Jarvis just smiled and shook his head, retreating from the room to give Tony some privacy while he bathed and got dressed.

Half an hour later, he found his way downstairs to the dining room, where he found a stack of pancakes just waiting for him. Grinning, he wolfed them down, his stomach crying for something to eat.

"You must slow down, Master Tony, or you'll choke. The food isn't going anywhere, I promise," Jarvis tsked, flurrying around the room, cleaning various things. Tony made a face but heeded the man's advice. Dragging his finger through some of the syrup (which Jarvis reprimanded him for, but he didn't really care, as the syrup tasted amazing), Tony hummed softly. A thought came into his head, making him pause, a soft frown lighting his face.

"Do you think I'll be able to meet Aunt Peggy's husband this week?" Tony questioned, watching Jarvis carefully. It was due to his diligent watch that he noticed the older man freeze. It was only for a split second, too fast to catch if you weren't paying attention, but Tony saw it. Jarvis stood up straight and looked at Tony, face a little too blank.

"A-ah, I'm afraid not, Master Tony. He, he's busy this week, you see. He won't be available," Jarvis stammered, not meeting Tony's eyes. Tony narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, breakfast forgotten. A pang of frustration filled his chest, causing him to huff.

"That's what you always say, Jarvis. He's /always/ busy. Hell, I'd say he's busier than dad! Why can't I meet him?"

"Language, Master Tony. And I know you wish to meet him, but I'm afraid Mr. Carter is a busy man. Maybe next time, alright?"

Except that's what Jarvis always said. Every time Tony went to see Aunt Peggy, her husband was "busy." He was an important military man, Jarvis said, he had important military things to do.

But it was like he was a ghost! No photos, no records (Tony looked, once, which had earned him another month of being grounded), nothing that proved he existed at all. The only thing Tony knew about him, other than the fact he was supposedly military, was that his first name was John. He took Aunt Peggy's last name, too (which was odd for a man in the fifties, when they married, but who was Tony to judge?), so he didn't even know his original last name. It was like he didn't even exist! He was never around, at least.

Or maybe he just didn't want to meet Tony. Tony wouldn't blame him, if that was the truth. He didn't think he'd like to meet himself, either.

But Tony didn't say any of that. There was no point; Jarvis wouldn't tell him anything regardless. For such a bad liar, Jarvis was surprisingly good at keeping secrets. It was admirable, Tony supposed, but it didn't help him out one bit.

Instead, Tony finished his breakfast in stony silence, before excusing himself to his room. His parents hadn't shown at breakfast, probably busy preparing for their trip, and his departure wasn't for another fifteen minutes. Once again, he ignored the pang in his heart at yet another lonely meal.

In his room, he picked up his little robot and started to fiddle with it. Some would call it playing, but Tony Stark didn't play. He created. He invented. But he didn't play. He wasn't a child. Well, he was, but he wasn't a /child,/ child. Get it?

He watched as the little thing flailed (danced), looking almost happy in its movements. Tony could only stare at it, frown prominent on his lips. It really was a useless little thing, wasn't it? Couldn't do anything. Just… flailed its arms. Pointless. Like him.

Suddenly overcome with a fit of anger, Tony raised the thing over his head and almost sent it crashing to the ground, hand poised to let go of it. At the last second, however, he found that he couldn't let go. The robot just kept flailing its arms, unknowing of its almost demise. It was so happy, that Tony couldn't bear to kill it. Ha, "kill it." Like it was alive. Like it had feelings.

He stared at it a moment longer, before placing it back on his shelf, shutting it off. He had been going to pack it away in the bag that Jarvis had supplied him with last night so he could show Aunt Peggy, but the appeal had been lost. The robot meant nothing to him, now. Just another useless, pointless toy. His father would hate it if he ever saw it. So Tony hated it too. He wouldn't kill it, but he wouldn't care about it, either.

The minutes passed slowly as Tony waited for Jarvis to knock on his door and tell him they were leaving. Tony thought of nothing as he stared at the ground, frown on his face.

Finally, the expected knock on his door came, Jarvis entering after Tony gave his consent. Jarvis looked worried as Tony brushed past him harshly but didn't say anything. He waited at the bottom of the stairs as Jarvis collected the bag he had packed for Tony, the thing heavy with clothes and bits of scrap metal that Tony insisted on bringing.

Together, the pair went to the car, Jarvis putting the bag in the trunk as Tony waited to see if his parents would come and say goodbye. He knew mom would want to, but dad might reject the idea, stating they had no time. As the minutes passed, it was becoming increasingly clear that the latter was the prevailing option. Pushing down the pang in his heart, Tony climbed into the car, arms crossed over his chest. Jarvis entered he front seat a few moments later, eyes staring worryingly at Tony through the rear-view mirror.

"Master Tony, are you quite alright? I thought you were looking forward to this trip? Are you having second thoughts? I, I might be able to look after you, as well, if you wish to call this whole thing off?"

Oh, Jarvis. So kind. Tony felt the simmering anger he had felt towards his parents melt away a little, as he shook his head. He knew that Jarvis had to take care of his wife. He'd already spent enough time looking after Tony these past couple days, he couldn't force the man to spend more time with him. While many people would claim Tony spoiled and uncaring of anyone else, he did care about Jarvis. He didn't want to force the man to choose between him and his wife.

"It's alright, Jarvis. I'm just tired. You know I get grumpy when I don't sleep well," Tony claimed, rolling his eyes. Jarvis smiled softly, nodding his head in agreement. Without another word, Jarvis turned the car on and pulled out of the drive, driving carefully onto the road. Tony just stared out the window, watching the houses and trees fly by. He tried hard not to think of his father and the fight from the previous night, but it was almost impossible.

Silence reigned in the car for the next few minutes, before Jarvis broke it with a soft cough. Tony looked up from the window to the front seat with a jolt, watching Jarvis look at him with concern. Whoops, he probably shouldn't have let his thoughts drift back to the fight. He didn't even want to know what the look on his face looked like, to make Jarvis that concerned.

"Master Tony, would you like to talk about the fight from yesterday?" Jarvis inquired softly, like he always did when he broached a sore subject for Tony. Tony hated it. He hated how soft and concerned the other man got. Hated how weak it made him feel. Scowling, Tony just turned back to the car window, hoping his silence spoke volumes. Jarvis sighed, but didn't let the topic go.

"You know he means well, Tony. Your father loves you, really. He just wants what is best for you. He simply has a hard time showing it, that is all."

Ah, yes. His father "loved" him, truly. Which is why he was always yelling. Why he never seemed proud of him, no matter what he did, no matter what records he broke. Why Tony never even saw the man, outside of the odd dinner, or whenever Howard would deign to teach him something.

Whatever. He didn't care. He didn't, alright? Not about his father, not about his robot. Not about Aunt Peggy's husband. It didn't matter. He was fine. Whatever.

More silence passed, before Jarvis turned on the radio, soft jazz playing in the background. Tony wished he would play some rock music, but the older man had always hated the loud noise.

The car ride was long. He only lived half an hour away from Aunt Peggy on a good day, but traffic was always horrible, which made the ride drag on forever. It was probably beneficial, if he was being honest. The ride and the soft jazz gave him enough time to get over his fit of anger and return to his excitement to see his favorite (only) Aunt. So what, he didn't know what her husband looked like? So what, the man didn't want to meet him? That was fine. As long as he had Aunt Peggy, he was fine. Truly.

And so, when the car pulled up outside of Aunt Peggy's house, Tony shot out of the car like a bullet, beyond excited to see Aunt Peggy again. It had been almost two months since he'd last seen her, and he had grown two whole inches! He had to show her.

Jarvis followed behind, like always, carefully getting his things out of the trunk. Tony was already banging on the door, though, hollering to be let in. Suddenly, the door opened backwards, causing Tony to stumble as he forcefully stopped his hand from slamming into his aunt's chest.

Grinning widely, Tony shot forward, arms going around his aunt in an enthusiastic hug. Aunt Peggy let out a soft "oof," but wrapped her arms around him just as tight, squeezing with everything she had in her. Tony closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation. It wasn't often he was hugged, since his mother thought he was too old for hugs, and Jarvis didn't want to overstep his bounds. It went without saying that his father never hugged him.

"Oh, my darling boy, I'm so glad to see you! Oh, have you grown taller? That's wonderful, Tony! I've got some ice cream in the freezer- chocolate, your favorite kind, and we can have some later to celebrate, alright?" Aunt Peggy relayed, eyes bright as she pulled away, grin nearly as wide as his own was. This was yet another thing he loved about her. She was always so happy to see him.

Jarvis chose that moment to come up the steps, dragging the suitcase behind him. Aunt Peggy let Tony go at that, rushing to help her old friend out. Tony tried not to let himself mourn the contact.

"Oh, Jarvis, it is good to see you, too, old friend. How's Ana doing? I heard that she's been sickly lately, poor dear. Send her my love, will you?" Aunt Peggy said, as the two of them engaged in conversation, forgetting about Tony. But that was fine. Everyone forgot about Tony. One day, he promised as he entered the house, heart clenching, he'd become so big and famous that no one would ever be able to forget about him. Just like his dad was.

Wandering into the living room, he looked at the decorations that were around. Not much, honestly. A few afghans, some vases with flowers. It had a vague 1950's vibe, but overall, it was very military. Made sense, he figured, since both of the people living there were military. He looked at the few pictures littering the walls. Most were of Aunt Peggy's children by themselves, with a few of her and the kids. A few pictures were of Captain America, which made Tony wonder what her husband thought of those. Must not be nice to be constantly reminded of your wife's former love. Jeez.

Part of Tony wanted to engage his plan right then, to start snooping around, but he knew that Aunt Peggy would be around any second now, and he didn't want to be caught so early. So instead he waited, as patiently as he possibly could (which wasn't much, but hey, he was a ten-year-old with an intellect larger than most adults, cut him a break).

It was long minutes later that Aunt Peggy and Jarvis entered the house, Aunt Peggy bringing his bag up to his room. Jarvis walked over to him and knelt before him, a kind smile on his face. Part of Tony wanted to be belligerent and turn away from the man, but ultimately knew that he'd regret it if he did. Jarvis was one of the few adults who seemed to genuinely care about him (even if part of Tony feared he only pretended to care for a paycheck, most of Tony was confident that Jarvis really did love him. Like… 75% sure), and he didn't want to hurt him. Plus, he'd miss the man. And he wasn't angry at Jarvis, per se. So, as Jarvis walked up, Tony pushed down the instincts that told him to act like a jerk and just watched.

"I have to get going now, Master Tony. Is there anything else you would like before I go? A snack, or perhaps something to drink?"

Tony wrinkled his nose. Jeez, he wasn't five. He can get his own snacks. He said as much, which ruined his plan to not be belligerent, but who could blame him? It was true. Still, it made his insides clench to see Jarvis look at him with that soft disapproval that Jarvis had perfected, the one that always made him feel like shit.

With a strained smile, the man just nodded and clasped Tony's shoulder in goodbye. Tony wanted to hug the man, but something held him back. Maybe the 25% of him that wasn't sure if Jarvis truly cared or not. Just as the older man was about to exit the house, he paused, a thought seemingly occurring to him.

"Oh! Master Tony, I nearly forgot. I noticed you forgot to pack your little robot away to show Aunt Peggy, so I made sure to pack it into your suitcase for you. I informed your aunt about it and she is very excited to see what you've made. Anyway, I'll see you next week, Master Tony, I hope you enjoy yourself."

And, with that, Jarvis was gone. Tony felt his hands clench into fists but ignored it as he stood up and stretched. So the robot had come with him. Wonderful.

Not wanting to think about the robot, Tony wandered into the kitchen, looking at the clean space. Despite his words to Jarvis, he was kind of hungry. He was a growing boy, after all, and he needed fuel. He didn't bother waiting to ask Aunt Peggy if he could grab something, and instead rooted around the fridge, moving the things around inside to see what she had, settling on a piece of some exotic cheese as a snack. He gave a small start when he heard his aunt tsk at him from the doorway.

"If you wanted something to eat, I could always prepare something for you, you know," she chided, as she headed over to the fridge to fix the mess he'd made. Oops. He hadn't realized he'd made that big of a mess. Oh well, whatever. Not like it mattered. Part of him wanted to apologize, but the rest didn't care, so he didn't bother, instead just shrugging his shoulders. Aunt Peggy gave him a disappointed look, but whatever. Who cared? Everyone was disappointed sometimes. Get over it.

"So, what do we have planned, dearest aunty? We gonna go to that park nearby? Or maybe the Guggenheim, they have this cool little science diorama I've wanted to look at. Oh, or maybe we can head to Rockefeller, see the square. Or, I don't know, something. What do you want to do?" Tony questioned, mouth moving faster than his ideas, brain spitting out whatever sounded nice.

He tried not to let his disappointment show when Aunt Peggy frowned and looked at him sadly. Oh. He knew what that look meant. He saw it all the time on the faces of the adults around him, particularly his mother.

"Oh, Tony. I'm so sorry, but I will not be able to take you to do too much this week. Unfortunately, something big happened at work and I'll have to spend most of the week in the office, even though I promise you I took the week off. But I can't ignore this problem. Maybe on the weekend we can go to the Guggenheim, but I don't think we'll have time for much else. I'm sorry, my dear."

At least she did look apologetic, Tony noted distantly. Face carefully blank, because of course she was busy, of course she was leaving him alone, everyone left him alone, Tony just shrugged nonchalantly, like he truly didn't care. Because he didn't. Truly. Besides, it just gave him more time to snoop.

"Oh. Yeah, that's fine. I can entertain myself, no problem. Work comes first, I get it," and he did. If there was one thing Howard had taught him, it was that work always, /always/ came first. Why would Tony expect any different from his favorite (only) Aunt? It was stupid to think she wanted to spend time with him. No one wanted to spend time with Tony. Which was fine, okay? Just… just fine.

Still, at least she looked upset about it, which was more than Howard (dad, he should call him dad, but whatever, he wasn't there) ever did, so he supposed he could give her a free pass.

"Well, okay, Tony. I'm not due to leave for another hour, though, so why don't you show me that robot that Jarvis was telling me about, hm? I'd love to see it. Does it have a name?"

A name. He hadn't thought of one yet. Crossing his arms, he stared at the ground, eyes blank, jaw clenched. Finally, a minute later, he looked up. He knew his face was contorted awkwardly, that he probably looked angry, or belligerent, but he didn't care. Whatever.

"Steve. I've named him Steve," Tony replied, a little meanly. Part of him regretted it when, a moment later, Aunt Peggy's face crumbled into that sad look she got when she was reminded of the ones she had lost, but the rest of him didn't care. He just… didn't care. Swallowing thickly, Aunt Peggy nodded, a strained smile on her face.

"Ah, a wonderful name for a wonderful robot, I'm sure. Will you show… /Steve/ to me?"

Tony waited a moment, seeming like he was thinking about it. Truth was, he knew the answer. He had known the answer ever since he'd left the stupid thing at home.

"Nah. I don't feel like it."

And that was that. Aunt Peggy had this look in her eye that she would get around him when he acted like this, like she wasn't sure what do to with him. It was a look he was familiar with. His mother constantly had it, when he saw her. Jarvis had it all the time. And now Aunt Peggy. It didn't even bother him anymore. Of course not. Why would it?

"Oh. Well, perhaps later, then. We can watch some TV, if you'd like?" It was an olive branch, Tony knew, but he wasn't feeling particularly charitable today. So he just shrugged and shook his head.

"Hm, nah. I think I'd like to just hang out in my room, if you don't mind. Is it the same one as last time?" he questioned, before headed that way without waiting for a response. He knew her answer anyway, as it was their only guest room.

Aunt Peggy just watched as he left, a sort of helpless look on her face. Funny. She could face down Hydra agents no problem, but little Tony Stark was where she faced uncertainty. It would be funny, if it didn't make him feel so cold inside.

In his room, which was even more spartan than the rest of the house, Tony sat on the bed, staring at the blank wall, mind drifting through space. His thoughts were going too fast to hold onto, so he just let them race, barely holding onto one thought for a split second before letting it float out into the ether. He tried hard not to feel resentment towards his aunt. She was one of the only people who did seem to genuinely care about him. Just because she had to spend the week at the office didn't mean she didn't care about him. It didn't.

Still hurt, though. He'd been looking forward to this for the past few days. Yeah, his main reason for wanting to come was to snoop around, but he enjoyed spending time with her. And maybe he'd have learned something important from her, not having to snoop around. Oh well. If horses were wishes, or whatever that phrase was. What did that even mean? Or was it, if wishes were horses? But that still made no sense, what did wishes have to do with horses?

As Tony let his mind wander down the path of idioms and their strange meanings, the next hour passed without much incident. Aunt Peggy stuck her head inside his room around 10 am and informed him she would be leaving, that she had left some sandwiches in the fridge if he got hungry, that if needed help he could go next door and ask her neighbor, and if he needed her, her work number was on the fridge, just follow the instructions. Tony said nothing, simply stared at the wall, the only indication he heard her being the tiny nod he gave when she finished. He heard her sigh softly, the same exasperated sigh everyone gave around Tony, before closing the door and leaving him alone. Great. Fine. Whatever. He didn't care.

He waited another half an hour after she had left before he stood up and stretched, his muscles aching from having spent the past hour and a half sitting (mostly) still on the bed. It was time to put his plan into action. And he wouldn't even have to be that sneaky, since there was no one home to catch him snooping. He'd just have to make sure to put things back where he found them, that's all.

With a careless shrug, Tony left his room and wondered where the best place was to find information. Her room, obviously. There would probably be proof to her husband's existence there. Unless he really was made up. Which would be… odd, but not unheard of. Oh, maybe her kids were test tube babies, or maybe they were aliens she had found and raised, but since being a single mom was taboo, she had pretended she had a husband, or maybe… well, there were a lot of options. Point was, the first place he was looking was her room.

Mind made up, Tony carefully padded across the floor, being quiet even though he really didn't have to. He supposed it just felt right. He was doing something sneaky; he should be sneaking around, yeah?

When he arrived at her room, he had the vaguest sense to turn back, that what he was doing was wrong. But, since he never listened to that voice that told him something was wrong (he was sure that voice was called a "conscience," but it gave lame advice that he hated, so he usually ignored it), he opened the door anyway, peaking inside.

There was more life in this room, Tony decided. There were a few pictures hanging, some nice rugs, a couple of nice chairs. There were two dressers, one on each side of the room, and the walls were a nice cream color. There were some clothes strewn on the ground, which was messier than the whole house. With her work, Tony blithely wondered how Aunt Peggy kept the house so clean. Or maybe it was the mysterious husband who cleaned. Their family dynamic was obviously weird, seeing as how he had took her last name. Whatever, it didn't affect him.

What was interesting, though, was that the clothes on the ground appeared to be larger than anything Aunt Peggy would wear. Different style, too. These were large, white t-shirts with blue jeans, not the sort of thing his aunt would wear at all. Plus, they seemed at least five times too big for her. So, that gave some credence to the idea that her husband existed (and more proof to the idea that it was maybe just Tony that the man didn't want to meet, which Tony pushed down, once again).

He picked the shirt up and looked at it, hoping to find some clues, but found nothing. It was just a plain old, boring white tee. Letting it drop carelessly, Tony then turned to the closet on the far side of the room, headed over to explore its contents. Inside was just rows and rows of suits and dresses, nothing interesting. All it did was add more to the fact that Aunt Peggy's husband indeed existed. Hurray.

For the next two hours, Tony snooped around Aunt Peggy's house, opening and closing various doors, peeking into rooms. He even entered her kid's old rooms. He didn't know how old her children were, but obviously they were old enough to not live at home, since they weren't there currently.

All in all, he hadn't found much. All he had proven was that her husband did, indeed, exist, and that her kids were a lot messier than she and her husband were. But other than that, he was right back where he had started. He tried not to feel frustrated as he opened the fridge and took out a few of the sandwiches Aunt Peggy has made.

There had been one interesting thing, though. One door he had passed wouldn't open, no matter what he tried. He had even busted out the little lock-picking kit he had carefully stowed away, on the off side chance he would need it, but it hadn't worked. He was positive he'd done it properly, which meant that the lock was specifically designed to not be able to be broken into. Which meant, he figured as he carefully ate the cucumber and mayo sandwich, that whatever info he wanted was in that room. But how to get it?

Based on the house layout, the room wouldn't have any windows that he could break into, since it was bordered by three rooms and a hallway. The vents in the house were far too small for anyone to shimmy into, even someone as small as him. Besides, he was pretty sure real vents were too flimsy to hold the weight of a human, not like it was on tv at all.

The rest of lunch passed with Tony wondering how to enter the locked room, until the last sandwich had been eaten. At that point, Tony was feeling pretty worn out, so he decided to take a break from snooping and instead headed to his room to fiddle with the pieces of scrap metal and wires he had packed away. He ignored the stupid robot that stupid Jarvis had packed (okay, not stupid Jarvis, it wasn't Jarvis's fault he was upset), and took out the scrap materials. He then spent the next several hours fiddling with the wires and the metal, not really making anything, just fiddling. The room had started to get dark by the time he heard the sound of keys in the door, Aunt Peggy calling out that she was home. Well. Good for her, Tony thought snidely, not bothering to acknowledge her, even when she poked her head in to see how he was doing.

Dinner was pretty silent, since Tony didn't feel like talking. Which was strange, since Tony loved to talk, but he just wasn't feeling up to it. Aunt Peggy had tried hard to get him to talk, but eventually gave up and they finished their meal in silence. However, as he was about to get up to head to his room, Aunt Peggy called him, her voice filled with both warning and concern. He knew that he wouldn't be able to ignore her, but still he tried. He got about as far as the hallway before she called to him, voice beyond exasperated.

"Anthony Edward Stark, don't you walk away from me, young man. I want to talk with you. Now."

Tony froze at her tone of voice, body poised to keep walking, but knowing it would be a very bad idea if he did. He hadn't seen Aunt Peggy angry very often, even more rarely was the anger directed towards him (she did her best to keep her cool around him, which he did appreciate), but he knew that he didn't want to piss her off. She was a force to be reckoned with, that was sure. So, despite his annoyance (and anger, but he ignored that, because why would he be angry? He wasn't angry), he stopped and turned around, arms crossed, an unbidden pout on his face.

"Yes, Aunt Peggy? What's up?"

Aunt Peggy just stared at him, a soft frown on her face. The scrutiny made him fidget, but he didn't say anything, biting his tongue to keep quiet. It would just make things worse, and he just wanted to head to his room. Finally, a minute later, Aunt Peggy sighed and moved closer, bending down to pull him into a warm hug.

Tony's first instinct was to pull away. He didn't want her hug then, he was annoyed (angry), and didn't feel like getting affection. But, the part of him that was starved for affection eventually won out, and he accepted the hug. But he didn't hug her back, a fact that she obviously noticed when she pulled back, a sad look on her face. Tony tried not to flinch when she lifted her hand to his face, relaxing only when she gently brushed some of his hair from out of his eyes, movement tender. It was something his mother used to do, before she had decided he was too old for affection. He missed those days, when he was young and his mother didn't mind if he sat on her lap, and she would hold him for hours, letting him talk about everything and nothing. Now, she was always too busy, never letting him sit on her lap, claiming he was too big. Oh well.

"Oh, my little Anthony. I really am sorry that I wasn't able to spend the week with you. I promise, I had been looking forward to it. You understand why I can't be here though, right?"

Yes. Of course he understood. He was ten years old; he was old enough to understand that work was important. That it was the most important thing. More than family, or loved ones, or anything else. He understood.

(It didn't mean it didn't still hurt, though).

(One day, when he was old, his family would come first, always. If he ever had a kid, they'd be his number one priority. He swore that).

Smiling tightly, Tony nodded, not looking her in the eye. He heard her sigh, then felt a soft kiss hit his cheek.

"Alright, my dear. Why don't you get washed up and ready for bed, hm? We can talk more in the morning."

Tony agreed and headed to his room without a word to his aunt. He heard her sigh once again as he exited the room, but he didn't care. He was a handful to deal with. Everyone told him that. Get used to it.

When he woke the next morning, all he found was a note from Aunt Peggy, claiming she was so sorry, but she had to leave earlier than she had expected, but that food was in the fridge and that she'd see him that night for dinner. Heart clenching painfully, he crumbled he note up and threw it away. He pushed the pain down and set to work on opening the locked door.

Several hours later, Tony was this close to admitting defeat. The door would not open, no matter what he tried. It was like it was magically sealed shut. But he wouldn't be Anthony Edward Stark if he just gave up after a little resistance, right? So he created a plan. He mapped out the lock, what he could see, and made a blueprint, doing his best to recreate the things he couldn't see, to the best of his ability. It wasn't perfect, but over the next several hours, he did everything he could to perfect it.

It was getting dark by the time he had finally got it, the door opening just as he heard the front door unlock. Cursing his bad luck, Tony hurriedly closed and relocked the door, rushing to his room to stash his things, before rushing out to the living room when Aunt Peggy called to him. He knew his face was flushed with exertion, but he hoped she wouldn't notice. By the way she looked at him, it was clear she had, but she kindly didn't mention it.

Dinner passed in more awkward silence, Aunt Peggy trying to spark a conversation but Tony shooting her down at each attempt. He could be very stubborn when he wanted to be. Finally, he was done, and he didn't even wait to be excused before he left the table, rushing back to his room, where he had hastily stuffed his blueprints and his things before he had rushed to meet Aunt Peggy for dinner. It was only as he was putting the things away that he realized he had left his lock pick behind. Cursing his past self, Tony scowled and debated on if it would be better to ignore it and hope that Aunt Peggy didn't find it, or if it would be better to leave his room and find it, but potentially get caught.

As he was weighing his odds, he heard a knock at the door. A sense of foreboding filled him as he called out for the person to enter. The sense of foreboding intensified when his aunt stepped into the room, face stony as she held the lock pick in her hand. Damnit. Shit. That wasn't good. Definitely not.

"Anthony," Aunt Peggy began, which definitely didn't bode well for him if she was already starting out with his full name, "can you explain to me why I found this lock pick outside of my husband's office?"

Her husband's office, eh? Well, at least he had learned what the room was. That was something.

Not wanting to give himself away, Tony just shrugged and looked at the ground, the beginnings of guilt starting to creep its way up through his stomach. He hated it. He wasn't supposed to feel guilty, dammit! All he wanted was to know his aunt better, was that such a crime?

Aunt Peggy sighed deeply, before he heard her move softly forward, her socked feet barely a sound on the hardwood floor. She knelt in front of him, right in his line of sight, so he turned his head away. She carefully put a hand to his cheek and pushed his face back towards her, her eyes gentle as she stared at him.

"Tony, my dear, look at me. I'm not angry. I just want to know why you've been snooping around my things while I've been gone." At his startled look, she smiled mirthlessly, shaking her head. "Oh, Tony. Did you really think I hadn't noticed you moving my things around? I'm not stupid, you know."

"I never said you were," Tony mumbled, the first thing he'd said to her all night. A moment of silence passed, Aunt Peggy looking at him expectantly, before he sighed loudly. He pulled away from his aunt, feeling claustrophobic under her scrutinizing gaze, and began to pace the room. Aunt Peggy just let him, saying nothing as she silently stood, taking a seat in the wooden chair that sat beside the bed. Finally, a few minutes later, Tony exploded, all the words he'd been keeping inside bursting out.

"Okay! Fine! I was snooping around! But what did you expect me to do?! I never see you anymore! You're always busy! Everyone is always busy! Even Jarvis is busy, taking care of his wife! I've known you all my life, and yet I can count on one hand the things I truly know about you! Hell, before yesterday, part of me wasn't even sure your husband really existed. Part of me still thinks maybe he doesn't, and it's all just an elaborate ruse! I just… I just wanted to get to know you, okay?! But you never tell me anything! No one does! So I had to find it out myself, like I always do, because I'm Tony Stark, and Stark's always find out the answers. Always!"

To his total and utter embarrassment, Tony felt tears rise unbidden to his eyes, his lips wobbling as he tried to stop the tears from falling. He was ten years old. He was too old to cry. Besides, men don't cry. That's what his father always said when he'd cry as a child. Men don't cry. They just… they don't.

Furthering his mortification, he heard Aunt Peggy softly gasp, a soft little "oh," before he was wrapped up in a hug. He fought it, at first, not wanting to be treated like a baby, but he couldn't break free, and so he just gave in, putting his arms around his aunt and hugging back tightly. And if a few tears escaped his eyes, well, Aunt Peggy didn't say anything, and kindly looked away after he pulled back and discreetly wiped his eyes. With another soft sigh, she began to speak.

"Oh, my dearest Tony. I'm so sorry I've been so busy lately. I hadn't thought… well, I just hadn't thought. But I promise you I'll do better, alright? I swear. Now, tell me, what is it that you wanted to know? I promise I'll do my best to answer."

Tony thought about it, eyes turned away as Aunt Peggy watched him with expectant eyes. What did he want to know? Well, he could think of one thing he wanted to know…

"Why have I never met your husband? I've seen you almost every other week since I was a baby, sometimes more than that, and yet I've never seen your husband. Ever. I barely even know his name, though I'm pretty sure it's fake, since there's no record of him before you two got married. No pictures, no records, no nothing. So who is he, and why can't I meet him?" Tony questioned, eyes trained on his aunt. He watched as she froze, clearly debating something, before she sighed, shaking her head.

"I'm afraid I can't give you a satisfactory answer, my dear. The complications with my husband's identity are far greater than what I can possibly explain to you. It would put you both in danger if I did so. Just know he is an important man, and he would absolutely adore you if he met you, I'm sure of it. He already adores you as it is. But it would be too dangerous, for you both. Okay?"

Aunt Peggy looked at him seriously, but Tony couldn't help the way his face crumbled. He hated it, felt so weak, but he couldn't help it. He was pretty sure she was lying. He wasn't sure about what part. About it being dangerous to meet him, or about her husband absolutely adoring him? Honestly, he wasn't sure there was anyone on this planet who "absolutely adored" him, not even his own mother, so that was clearly a lie.

"You're lying. I know you are," Tony accused, eyes on the ground, fists clenched. "He just doesn't want to meet me, right? H-he's heard about me and doesn't want to get to know me. W-well that's fine! I don't want to get to know him, either! So that's good!"

"Oh, Tony," Aunt Peggy breathed, before trying to pull him into another hug. But he was ready that time. He pulled away quickly, darting away from her grasp, glaring at her. He ignored the pang of guilt at the pained look in her eyes; instead, he turned to face the wall. He heard her stand up from the chair and approach him. He crossed his arms so tightly around himself it was like he was trying to squeeze the life out of himself and shut his eyes just as tight. He tensed even further when he felt her hand touch his back, but she didn't try and hug him again. She just stood there silently, not doing anything but touching his back lightly. Minutes passed, and he eventually relaxed. Not fully, but a little.

"I wasn't lying, Tony. My husband is an important man, who would be hunted down if people knew where he was. I've spent the last twenty-five years keeping his identity a secret. I would love for the two of you to meet, I really would, and I know he'd love to see you, too. But it… oh, I'm sorry Tony. I really am."

She did sound sorry. But sometimes, sorry wasn't enough. So Tony just stayed silent, not saying a single word. Not even when Aunt Peggy asked if he wanted to know anything else. Finally, minutes later, she sighed again and left the room, lingering at the door. She closed it a minute later, finally leaving him alone.

The second the door closed, Tony burst into tears. He hated it, hated it so much, but he couldn't stop the angry tears that escaped his eyes.

It was a lie. A complete and total lie. She was lying to him. She had to be. Why would she be married to such a dangerous man? Why would she trust him with her children, but not Tony? Obviously, even if she was telling the truth, then that meant that she didn't trust Tony to keep a secret. Which, okay, fair, he was awful at secrets, but still! He'd keep a secret if it was life and death! He knew he would!

So either she was lying, or she didn't trust him. Or both. He wasn't sure what was the worst option, honestly.

Jarvis probably knew. Jarvis knew everything. Maybe his dad knew, too. Hell, the whole world probably knew. Everyone but him. Because he couldn't be trusted. Because Aunt Peggy's husband, /John Carter/, didn't want to meet him. Which was fine. He didn't even know the man, why would it hurt that he didn't want to meet him? It didn't hurt. It didn't. It /didn't./

Okay, maybe it did, a little. A tiny bit. But that was fine. Plenty of people didn't like him. Many before they even met him. It was the life of a Stark. People had preconceived notions about you. They judge you based on what they thought they knew of you. It was just a fact of life.

So he pushed it down, like he pushed everything down. A Stark couldn't dwell on the negative. He was better than that. Instead, he got ready for bed, showering, brushing his teeth, the whole nine yards. It was as he was making his way back to his room from the bathroom that he heard his aunt speaking softly, so softly he could barely make her out. He could only make out a few words here and there, and they didn't make much sense.

"… love to meet you… I know, I know… dangerous, yes I… but it would do him good… -eve, please…"

His stomach twisted in knots when he realized what she was talking about, and to whom. Unable to hear a second more, he abruptly turned and entered his room, slamming the door as loud as he could, anger coursing through his veins.

He didn't need his aunt to beg her husband to meet him. He didn't even care about the man! He meant nothing to Tony! The only thing that mattered was that Aunt Peggy didn't trust him. It wasn't that some mysterious man that his aunt talked about so fondly didn't like him, even without having met him. It wasn't that this husband of hers was always conveniently "busy" when he was around. It wasn't anything, okay? It wasn't anything. And he didn't need Aunt Peggy to beg for him.

And he ignored the part that felt anticipation, wondering if her husband would actual meet him. Wondering if he'd be deemed worthy to keep his secret. Wondering what the man was like, if he was a spy, if he was truly as important as Aunt Peggy said.

Instead, he went to bed, falling asleep faster than ever, as tired as he was from the day's events.

When he woke the next morning, after dressing, he went downstairs and met with his aunt. She smiled softly at him and set down some fancy bacon and egg dish she had made. It honestly tasted amazing, so he wolfed it down, ravenous since he had eaten so little the day before. He could feel his aunt's eyes on him, but he did his best to ignore it. He still felt raw and open from the night before. It was all he could do to keep himself together.

Finally, breakfast was over, but they still had about ten minutes before Aunt Peggy had to leave. Tony had half a mind to just leave the room, to retreat to his room again, but part of him wanted to make amends with his aunt. He didn't like being angry with her. He really didn't. So, taking a deep breath, he looked up at his aunt and did his best to smile.

"Hey, Aunt Peggy. I, uh… I was wondering if you'd like to, you know… see my uh, my robot," Tony mumbled, cheeks flushing red. He felt stupid, asking her to see that godforsaken robot, but he felt better when his aunt positively /beamed,/ nodding her head quickly.

"Oh, yes, Tony, my dear. I'd love to see your robot… uh, Steve," she claimed, still smiling. Tony smiled back, more genuinely than the last time, and stood up.

"Okay! I, uh… I'll go and get him."

With that, Tony shot out of the room, partially out of excitement, but mostly out of nerves. The air was way too thick in that room for his liking, thanks very much.

Grabbing the stupid robot, Tony exited his room and made his way back to where he'd left his aunt. She smiled when she saw him, cooing when she saw the robot in his hands.

"Oh, Tony, he looks magnificent. Jarvis tells me that you built him in only half an hour? That's incredible, my dear! Here, why don't you turn him on, we can see what he does, hm?"

For the next five minutes, the pair played with his robot, watching him as he flailed (danced), laughing joyously. Even after she left, looking regretful to leave him by himself, he felt a bubble of happiness form inside his heart. It had been a while since he'd felt truly happy. He even felt more charitable towards the little robot he had made, the little thing flailing (dancing) it's heart out.

Tony kept the thing out, moving some of his scrap metal and wires into the living room so he could improve the robot. He had noticed that some of the movements weren't as fluid as he'd liked, plus he wanted to add some lights to make the thing really shine. Part of him thought about entering the locked room again, but ultimately decided against it. Honestly, he didn't care much about learning about her husband anymore.

About an hour passed as Tony got absorbed into his work, barely noticing the time passing. It wasn't until he heard a key fit into the door that he realized time had passed at all. But when he looked at the clock, he realized it was only 11 am, not even lunch time. So why would his aunt be back so soon?

Heart clenching in fear, Tony shot up, robot clenched in his fists, as he faced the door. Slowly, the door opened, and there stood the biggest man Tony had ever seen. The man was pure muscle, body so chiseled he could see every ab even through his white t-shirt. Tony's eyes widened as the man met his eyes, a smile on the man's face. The man opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Tony let out a death-defying scream and charged the man, punching everywhere he could find, his robot dropping to the ground. He spared half a second to wish it was okay before returning to his furious attack. The man was obviously not expecting an attack from someone as tiny as Tony was, because he didn't even move an inch for a solid three seconds. It wasn't until Tony aimed a punch for the man's privates that the man began to fight back, hands grabbing for Tony, but Tony was too quick.

"Don't you rob my aunt's house! She's an important military person and she will make sure you end up in jail for a very long time! So go away! Go away right now!" Tony screamed at the top of his lungs, hoping that someone would hear him and come to his aid. To his surprise, the man began to laugh, even as he did his best to stop Tony's furious attacks.

"Hey! Don't laugh at me, I'm serious! She'll mess you up! And, and if you're here to kidnap me, you have another thing coming! I was kidnapped once and was released three days later because I was so annoying! So don't even try it, okay?!"

The man stopped trying to grab him at that, looking at him in confusion, letting Tony's tiny fists meet their mark. Honestly, was he even doing any damage to this guy?! Jeez!

"You were kidnapped for three days once? When was this?"

That made Tony pause in his attack, fists up, ready to throw a punch if he had to. But the man didn't do anything, just stood there, staring at Tony with a small frown on his face. Now that he was looking, the man looked vaguely familiar, but he was unable to place where he'd seen him before. Then he remembered the question and frowned. He shrugged once, eyes still guarded as he looked at the man.

"I don't know. I think I was six or seven? I've been kidnapped a few times. These guys wanted some money from my dad, but were super disorganized. I just sang The Rolling Stones on the top of my lungs for five hours straight, which made them realize that it wasn't worth it. So they gave me back without anyone even noticing I was gone. Well, except for Jarvis, but he notices everything. I got extra ice cream for a month after that," Tony crowed, remembering the icy treat he'd gotten. The kidnapping itself had been a little scary at the time, but it hadn't been the first time he'd been taken.

The first time had apparently been when he had been two, a group of enemies of his father's. Apparently, Aunt Peggy's husband has saved him, which he supposed put more credence to the idea that he did, indeed, exist. He'd only heard the story once, from Jarvis, after the last time he'd been kidnapped, two years previous. Apparently, Aunt Peggy's husband had found him then, too, though he'd sent Aunt Peggy to retrieve him. That was when he really learned how badass she was, going all ninja on those kidnappers. They honestly hadn't been that bad, one of them even playing a game with him once his "annoying them to death" tactic failed. He had told his aunt that, but he wasn't sure if it made them be more lenient or not. To be honest, he didn't really care. They still kidnapped him, after all, which was still scary even after the fourth time. Though it was probably his fault he'd been kidnapped so often, as he had a tendency to wander away from his family.

"Huh. Why hadn't I known about that?" The man mumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowed. Tony raised his eyebrows, trying to do the cool "raise one eyebrow thing" his dad could do, but not quite managing it. One day, he promised himself.

"Uh, maybe because this is the first time we've ever met? Weird robber man. Wait. I should probably call the police," Tony exclaimed, eyes widening at the idea. Before he could move, though, the man chuckled, shaking his head.

"This isn't the first time we've met, Tony, though I doubt you remember me. I've, uh… been pretty busy these last several years."

The man sounded sheepish at that, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Tony just looked at him incredulously. They've met? When? He thinks he'd remember someone as large as the man before him! Though… there was something familiar about the man…

Squinting, Tony tried to place where he had seen the man before, but he couldn't for the life of him place it. The man before him had a large beard and dark brown hair, with a wrinkled brow and some wrinkles along his cheeks. If he was being honest, he looked a little like Captain America, but older and with darker hair and a beard, but he was dead, so that was out. After a minute of scrutiny, Tony just shook his head, indicating he had no idea who the man was. The man just smiled at him, shrugging his shoulders.

"I figured as much. Well, Tony, my name is John Carter. It's a pleasure to officially meet you."

Holy shit. He was Aunt Peggy's husband. Wait. /He/ was Aunt Peggy's husband? Wow, did she have a type or what? But…

"How can I trust you are who you say you are? For all you know, you could be a crazed murderer and are just pretending to be someone I know. I've never met Aunt Peggy's husband, anyway. Why would you- I mean, /he/ show up now?"

The man, supposedly "John Carter" (and wasn't that a character from a book he'd read as a kid?), had a fond smile on his face, shaking his head softly. And were those… no, it can't… yes, yes those /were/ tears in his eyes. What?

"You haven't changed a bit, have you Tony?" The man said, almost to himself, before taking something from his pocket. Tony screamed, part of him afraid it would be a gun, but the man just pulled out his wallet, his eyebrow raised. Tony watched, on guard, as the man took out a driver's license and handed it to Tony to look at. When Tony just continued to stare at the man suspiciously, the man nodded his head towards the card, a fond smile on his lips. With a scowl, Tony tore his eyes away from the man and looked at the license.

On it was the name "John Carter," with a large picture of the man in front of him on it. His birthday was June 4th, 1918 (a month before Captain America's, his brain supplied), he had dark brown hair, blue eyes, weighed 200 pounds… it all /seemed/ normal. But driver's licenses could be faked, right? Maybe… maybe this man was just playing him, was just pretending to be John Carter to get him to trust him, and then he'd lure him away and kill him! Or maybe, maybe, maybe…

Before his mind could go any further down the rabbit hole, the man chuckled again, shaking his head with an overly fond smile on his lips.

"Oh, Tony. I can practically see your brain turning from here. If you don't believe that, here," the man said, holding out another piece of paper, this one a photo. Tony took it, eyeing the man suspiciously, "it's my wedding photo. No photoshop, I swear."

Photo what now? Tony gave the man a weird look, to which the man, possibly John Carter, just grinned. It made him look… nicer, Tony decided. Less severe.

Tearing his eyes away from the smiling man, he looked down at the photo, indeed seeing a photo of a man and a woman in traditional fifties wedding garb. On a closer inspection, it appeared to be his Aunt Peggy and…

"It's you and Aunt Peggy!" Tony exclaimed, suddenly feeling ecstatic. He'd never seen any of his Aunt Peggy's wedding photos before. If this man was indeed her husband- and Tony couldn't deny, the evidence did add up (after all, he did have a key to the house, which Tony had noted earlier, but dismissed, because the man could have simply stolen the keys)- then this was the first of his aunt's wedding photos he's ever seen. And something about that seemed… nice.

"And, if you don't believe that… here's a photo of me and you, back when you were a baby," the man, John, continued, holding out another photo. Suddenly eager to see the photo supposedly of him and the man, Tony took it, eyes wide when he saw baby him being held by a slightly younger version of the man before him, both smiling widely at each other, the photo obviously a candid shot. He knew the baby was him, having seen enough baby photos, so if that wasn't proof, he didn't know what was. So, eyes wide, Tony took in the man in front of him. His Uncle John.

Now that he wasn't stricken with terror, there was a kindness, a gentleness to the man. He had some obvious laugh lines along his mouth, and crow's feet at his eyes. His beard was pretty thick, but well groomed, so it looked refined rather than ratty. More "distinguished rabbi" than "homeless crazy man." His eyes were a bright, vivid blue. They were also soft and kind, which, now that Tony had calmed down a bit, made him want to trust the man. His hair was a dark brown, but the roots were a little lighter, which made Tony think he dyed it.

Overall, he did seem pretty trustworthy. But one could never be too careful, right? Sheepishly, Tony handed the photos and license back, though his eyes lingered on the wedding photo. The man took them back carefully, placing them lovingly back into his wallet. With a smile, he entered the house slowly, obviously not trying to scare Tony.

"So uh… sorry for hitting you. I, um… I thought you were a, a burglar or something," Tony winced, wondering if the man was going to get angry. Instead the man just chuckled again, smile widening.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I completely understand. That was a pretty impressive attack, I must admit. Has anyone trained you in fighting?"

Tony shrugged, trying to will away the pleased flush that was rising on his face. He really didn't want to embarrass himself in front of his apparently super cool uncle.

"Aunt Peggy has shown me a couple things, and Jarvis has shown me some defensive moves. Dad taught me a couple offensive moves, but nothing too major. Mom had me take a self-defense class, though, after the last time I got kidnapped. Which… I suppose I should thank you, for finding me? Also, when I was a baby. So. Thanks," Tony finished lamely, wincing at how lame he sounded. But the man just grinned at him, tears inexplicably rising in his eyes.

"Ah, don't uh… don't mention it. You had me very scared, you know. I know we've never really spent time together, but you do mean a lot to me, Tony. You really do."

Huh. All this time, he'd thought the man must have hated him or something. Maybe he did and was just lying to him. But… he did seem sincere… biting his lip (a habit his father was trying to break him from, to no avail), Tony looked at the man and asked the question that was at the forefront of his mind.

"Why are you here?" Tony inquired. At his uncle's confused look, Tony elaborated, "I mean, in ten years, or at least seven, you've never bothered to make the effort to meet me. You're always, always too busy, or out of town. Or, or, or it's "too dangerous," or, I don't know, you just didn't want to come! So, so why now?"

Of course, Tony knew why now. He had overheard his aunt's phone call, after all. But he wanted to hear the man say it himself. Tony tried to ignore the angry tears that were rising in his eyes as he thought about all the years he'd been overlooked and ignored by the man in front of him. It rankled him. But the man just looked at him with sad blue eyes, a heartbreaking look on his face, which made Tony feel even worse. So, before the man could reply, Tony let out the words that he had held inside, suddenly needing to say them.

"B-because if you are my, my uncle, and you do mean what you said, about caring about me, then why are you never around? Why, why have you never, never bothered to meet me? Why can't you find the time to hang out, or, I don't know, /do something/ with me? I…" Tony got really quiet all of a sudden, the anger expelled, and only hurt remaining. He'd never known the man before him, no, but he could have. And it had always hurt that the man hadn't wanted to know him. "I always thought that you must have hated me or something. Or that you weren't real. B-because Aunt Peggy always talked about how amazing you are, but you never… never wanted to see me."

Tony was mumbling to his shoes then, tears still filling his eyes, making it hard to see. Damnit. He was embarrassing himself in front of his uncle. Just as he was about to run out of the room and bail on the conversation, he felt strong arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight, almost suffocating hug. Turning his head so he could breathe, Tony wrapped his tiny arms around the massive man before him, his arms barely reaching halfway around him.

"Oh, Tony, Tony, no, I don't… I don't hate you Tony. I've never hated you, never. I just… ah, I was just… I don't know. Scared? Terrified? I didn't… well, I didn't want to hurt you, Tony. And I was afraid I'd somehow mess things up and just make things worse. But don't think I didn't see you because I hated you. That was never the reason. You mean… you mean a lot to me, Tone. You're my, my nephew. You mean so much to me. More than you can ever know."

The man pulled back at that, looking at Tony with glossy eyes, making Tony tear up again. A single tear fell from his eyes, which he did his best to scrub away as quickly as he could. But the man just grabbed his arm gently before he could, holding it carefully.

"Hey, don't be ashamed of crying, okay? There's nothing wrong with shedding a few tears when you're sad or angry, or frustrated. Or even happy. There's nothing wrong with crying."

That just made him cry more, which made him feel more ashamed. The man might have meant well, but he was wrong. Men weren't supposed to cry, especially not in front of other men. It was childish. And Tony was not a child. Not really. Thankfully, his uncle let go of his arm pretty quick, letting Tony wipe the tears away. One of his uncle's arms was still around his waist, which suddenly made Tony feel very uncomfortable. He wasn't very used to physical contact on a good day, and he'd never met this man before ten minutes ago. So he took a quick step back, his foot hitting something, nearly making him fall down. When he looked down to see what he had hit, he saw his little robot, busted up, but still mostly intact.

"Steve!" Tony cried, bending down quickly to pick up his robot, suddenly very worried about it. In his haste, he didn't notice how the man in front of him jerked back so quickly he almost broke the still open door, nor the way his eyes widened in something akin to horror.

"W-what did you just say?" His uncle whispered, voice hoarse. Tony looked up, confused, watching his uncle's wide eyes and pale face with confusion.

"I… my robot. His name, it's Steve. Like… like Captain America? I, I dropped him earlier, when I fought you. I was worried he might be hurt. Which is, it's dumb, it's just a stupid robot, but… I don't know." Tony shrugged, crossing his arms defensively, robot in his hands. His uncle relaxed after that, letting out the breath it seemed he had been holding. Huh. Tony hadn't realized people did that outside of books.

"Oh. I, I see. Did you make that robot, then? I know how smart you are. We still use that alarm clock you made us five years ago, that wakes us with the scent of bacon. An ingenious invention, if I do say so myself."

Tony couldn't help the pleased smile he let out at that, the last of his tears drying as his uncle smiled back at him, looking tender and kind. Part of him had an intense longing to have had this earlier, to have met his uncle years ago, but he supposed what's done was done. It's not like anyone could change the past, after all. But he had a feeling his uncle would have been the type of person who'd have supported him, like his aunt and like Jarvis.

Tony sniffed softly, rubbing his eyes slightly. Then a thought occurred to him, making him look up at his uncle with wide eyes.

"Did you know him?" He blurted out, eyes wide and bright. When his uncle just looked at him in confusion, Tony clarified. "Captain America, I mean. You looked pretty spooked when I yelled Steve earlier. And I know… I mean, I know how Aunt Peggy used to feel about him… I was wondering if you knew each other. That's all." Tony shrugged awkwardly at the end, realizing belatedly that bringing up his aunt's former boyfriend might not have been the best idea. Oh well hindsight's 20/20 and all. Luckily, his uncle didn't seem too offended; instead, he just looked awkward. Which Tony supposed made sense.

"O-oh. You mean, Steve. I, uh… yeah, yeah, I knew him. An okay guy. Bit full of himself at times, but he always did his best to be decent."

Tony looked down at that, fiddling with the robot in his hands. He felt a large hand touch his shoulder as a gentle voice asked him if he was alright. Tony just shrugged, carefully removing his shoulder from his uncle's grasp.

"Yeah, I'm fine. My dad knew him too, you know. Helped create him, or something. His proudest accomplishment," Tony mumbled under his breath after, eyes focused on his robot. He could practically hear his uncle frowning when the man spoke, voice soft and soothing.

"Tony, I'm sure that's not true. Not his proudest accomplishment."

Tony felt a surge of anger at that, his hands tightening around Steve. He glared up at his uncle, baring his teeth in anger.

"And how would you know, huh?! Do you know my dad, too?! Know everyone in my life but me?! Well whatever! I don't need you; I don't need anybody! I don't care that, that all my dad talks about is Captain America and how amazing he was! I don't care that I'll never live up to his name! I don't care that I'll never be good enough to be a Stark! I don't care! It doesn't matter! So just, leave me alone!"

Tony ran off at that, running past the living room and into his bedroom, slamming the door shut with all the force he had. He locked the door, even though his aunt had made him promise to never lock it, after the last time he had gotten angry and locked the door and it got stuck. He didn't want his uncle coming after him. After all, while the man seemed nice, he still had spent ten years of his life refusing to meet him. And Tony knew now that it had been on purpose. His uncle had practically admitted it.

He could hear his uncle knocking at the door, begging him to open up, but Tony just put on his Walkman and blasted the music, Paint it Black blasting in his ears. He looked down at Steve and began taking him apart, taking the broken parts out and replacing them. At one point he distantly noticed that the knocking had stopped, which made him relieved. He didn't want to deal with his uncle right then. Not after having made a fool of himself.

However, around 3:00 pm, his stomach was growling so fiercely that he couldn't deny it. He'd skipped breakfast and lunch the day before, but he couldn't do that too often. He was still growing, after all.

So, carefully, Tony put Steve on his shelf, the robot almost like new again, and quietly tip toed to the door. He didn't want to alert his uncle that he was leaving, so he opened the door as quietly as he could and peeked out.

"Are you ready to talk now?" A voice asked, causing Tony to yelp in fright, falling down hard to the ground. As he groaned in pain, his uncle carefully opened the door and shuffled into the room, kneeling next to Tony carefully. It was almost comical, how the big man would contort himself to fit comfortably next to Tony.

"Were you out there the whole time?" Tony grumbled, wincing at the pain in his butt. His uncle had a slight smile on his mouth as he looked at Tony, a hint of mirth in his eyes that was nearly drowned out by such an intense sadness it almost felt physical. Tony felt his breath catch at the look.

"Yes. I didn't want to miss you, if you decided to exit the room. I need to talk to you, Tony. Will you listen to me?"

Tony thought about saying no, being belligerent and bratty, but ultimately decided against it. After all, he kind of deserved whatever lecture he was about to get. Probably about how he shouldn't yell at his elders, or how he was being childish. Whatever. He'd take whatever lecture his uncle had prepared. He didn't care. So he said nothing and stared blankly ahead. A moment later he heard his uncle sigh, the same sigh that everyone sighed around him. Huh. It had only taken him a few hours before getting that exasperated at him.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder, while another gently turned his chin to face his uncle. Tony did his best to force his chin to stop wobbling as he looked at the man, who looked so world-weary Tony wouldn't be surprised if was actually over a hundred, not nearly sixty.

"Hey, look at me, Tone. Look at me," his uncle pleaded, voice impossibly soft. It made Tony's chin wobble dangerously, not just for the softness, but for the nickname. No one ever gave him a nickname before. Unless you considered "annoying brat" a nickname.

"Look, I know I've not been there for you. And I, I'm sorry Tony. I was afraid. And I still am. There's a lot going on that you don't know about, that I won't be able to tell you, ever. But I need you to know one thing. You listening?"

His uncle paused, eyebrows raised, waiting for Tony to answer. Sniffling, Tony nodded, watching his uncle's bright blue eyes as they melted into a gentle sea.

"You are one of the most important things to me. You are probably the best man I've ever met, and I've met a lot of great men. One day, you will become the best of all of us. Better than your father. Better than me. And far better than Captain America. You will save this entire universe, Tony, again and again. You will face challenges and hardships, but you will never back down. You will prove to the world that Tony Stark is a man of integrity and goodness. You will bring pride and prestige to your family name. People for generations will know the name Tony Stark. I promise you this, Tony. I promise you. You have so much potential inside of you. So much greatness. So much goodness. And know that, while we might not always see eye to eye, I will always, /always/ be proud of you and who you will become. Do you understand?"

Tony couldn't say anything as he stared at his uncle, eyes wide, tears flowing down his face unbidden and unchecked. No one… no one had ever said anything like that to him. Yes, people had told him of his potential, told him that he was destined to do great things. But the way his uncle said it… it wasn't like he was saying it just to be kind, or because of who his father was. No. It was like… he truly believed it. Like he had seen the future and could say, with all honesty, that what he said was true.

And God, did Tony hope so. He wanted to be great, yes. But most importantly, he wanted to be /good/. He wanted to be a good man, like he'd always heard Captain America was. He yearned to be like the man his father was always talking about, always praising. Maybe, if he was, his dad would finally be proud of him.

Sniffling, Tony lunged forward and wrapped his tiny arms around his uncle, squeezing as tightly as he could. Maybe part of him still felt raw about being ignored for most of his life. Maybe part of him didn't understand why his uncle couldn't see him more often. But in that moment, he didn't care. He had someone who actually believed in him, who thought he would not only do great things, but good things. It was something, at the very least.

His uncle just hugged him back, letting Tony cling to him as long as he wanted. Tony didn't know much time passed before he finally pulled back, sniffling and discreetly wiping his eyes. But part of him felt vindicated when he saw the tear tracks on his uncle's face, which the man didn't even bother to wipe away. Grinning brightly, Tony jumped up and grabbed his uncle's hand, startling the man when he began to yank on it. Well, if his uncle wanted to get to know him, then he'd have to get used to his dramatic mood swings, eh?

"Come on! Come on! I want to show you my robot! He doesn't do much yet, he just dances, I mean flails about, but I'm adding some lights to him so that he can glow. His name is Steve, like I told you, and he's kind of useless, but I like him! One day, when I'm bigger, I'll make a fully functioning robot, with A.I. and everything! I'm not sure what their name will be, but they're gonna be super cool! Now come on!"

To his credit, his uncle seemed to take Tony's mood change in stride, grinning widely as he carefully got up. He chuckled at some of his points, nodding along with others. Together, the pair entered Tony's temporary room, where Tony went straight for his little robot. The pair spent the next couple hours watching his robot… dance, he was dancing, the pair laughing and conspiring, wondering what Tony should add to the robot next. Some of the suggestions were practical, like wheels so he could move around while he danced, but some were widely out there, like rocket boosters so he could fly, or lasers, so he could attack things with his flailing fists. Strangely, it hadn't even been Tony to suggest either option, but rather his uncle, the man grinning with a knowing look in his eyes as he suggested them. There was also a hint of sadness there, but Tony dismissed it. It wasn't his place to question his uncle.

Hours later, after the two took a quick break for the lunch they both had forgotten about in their earlier discussion, the door opened, keys settling on the bannister by the door.

"Tony? You here?"

Filled with excitement, wanting to tell his aunt all about the plans he had for S.T.E.V.E. (which he decided stood for Stylized Twirling Electrical Variety Engine), Tony shot out of his room into the foyer, launching himself into his aunt's arms with a burst of speed. He heard her let out a soft "oof!" but was able to steady them quite easily. Tony couldn't help his grin as he glanced up at her, arms tight around her waist.

"Well! This certainly is a warm welcome! I see you're feeling better?"

Tony opened his mouth, about to mention that he had finally met her husband and that he was the greatest person he had ever met, when he heard a voice call from over his shoulder.

"Heya, Peggy. You look beautiful, as always," his uncle said, smile clear in his voice. Tony felt his uncle step up behind him and was forced to watch as the man kissed Aunt Peggy. Right over his head! While he was stuck between them! Yuck!

"Ewww! Gross!" Tony screamed, doing his best to wiggle away from his two pseudo relatives. His uncle just laughed, however, and grabbed him around his waist, lifting him high into the air, like he weighed nothing at all. To be fair, he didn't weigh all that much, about 75 pounds when wet, but still! It was majorly impressive. Also fun as hell, getting lifted into the air and swung around. It was like he was flying. He decided then that one day, he would try and invent something that allowed him to fly.

Aunt Peggy laughed with delight as she watched the two boys play, noticing how happy they both seemed. Tony noticed it too. He didn't remember the last time he was so happy. Aunt Peggy was right. Uncle John really /was/ amazing.

Eventually Aunt Peggy had to call an end to play time, stating that dinner needed to be made and that the boys had to clean up their mess. Dinner was a rowdy affair, the three of them laughing uproariously at some thing or another. It was so amazing that Tony never wanted it to end. But end it must. And pretty soon, it was bedtime.

"No! I don't want to go to bed!" Tony screamed, a common occurrence with Tony Stark. But this time, there was a hint of desperation behind his words. After all, who knew if his uncle would still be there when he woke up? And after years of never seeing the man, Tony wasn't willing to take his chances that he'd leave in the middle of the night. Aunt Peggy sighed as she tried to settle him down, to no avail. Both were getting incredibly frustrated when his uncle chose to step in, smiling kindly at his aunt in the process. Tony settled his death glare on his uncle, even though the whole reason for his tantrum was because he didn't want the man to leave.

With yet another "Tony Stark is exasperating" sigh, his uncle sat at the end of his bed, watching Tony- who was stood over his bed with his arms crossed- with weary, saddened eyes. It made Tony's heart clench, wondering if he'd gone too far, if his uncle now regretted his words from earlier, if he finally realized how much of an awful person Tony really was, deep down. But then his uncle smiled, soft at first, before it grew, brightening up his entire face. It was like looking at the sun, if he was being honest.

"Hey, now. I know you don't like to sleep, Tone, but it's getting late. I can see how tired you are, your eyelids keep drooping every few seconds. Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" His uncle questioned softly, smile still alight on his face. He beckoned Tony over, which Tony resisted for a couple seconds, before giving in, taking a seat beside his uncle, the man's arm around his thin shoulders. Silence reigned for a few moments, Tony and his uncle sitting on the bed, Aunt Peggy standing in the doorway, watching the two.

Finally, Tony sighed, staring at his hands.

"I… I don't want to wake up to find you gone. Okay?"

Tony closed his eyes tightly at the admission, feeling very dumb and very small. He felt the arm around his shoulder squeeze him gently, the man tsking softly.

"Tony, all you had to do was tell me that. Now, like I told you before, I won't be able to spend that much time with you. I've got duties that require I stay away, for both of our own good. And I can't tell you why, Tony. I probably never will be able to. But that doesn't mean we can't see each other every so often. And if you want me to stay for the rest of the week, I'm sure that will be fine. I love you, Tony. And I'll always be here for you, if you need me. Okay?"

A single tear escaped Tony's eye at his uncle's words, but for once, he didn't scramble to wipe it away. He just let it fall, as he took in a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart down. After a minute passed, Tony felt composed enough to nod his consent, turning his head to bury his face in his uncle's chest. The man just let Tony hide away, saying nothing else. Eventually, Tony backed away, suddenly feeling exhausted. Blinking back the sleep that so often eluded him, he felt his uncle stand and gently lead Tony to lie down, tucking him in with care. Aunt Peggy wandered over, her own eyes still misty from earlier, and leaned down to kiss his head gently.

"I love you, my little Avenger. I will always love you, alright?" She whispered, brushing his hair back. He was too tired to really question the nickname she gave him, so he only nodded blithely. As soon as his eyes closed, he fell instantly asleep.

And when he woke up, his uncle was there, opening the door and wishing him good morning.

And when the week was over and he had to go home, Tony crying so hard but not attempting to hide the tears, his uncle just held him tight and said that they would see each other again, Tony leaving his little S.T.E.V.E. robot with them as a reminder.

And when, years later, the pair had only seen each other a handful of times, it was still okay, because Tony knew that his uncle was out there, that he cared about him, and that he was proud of him.

And when his parents died, his uncle was there, older than he had been, but no less sincere, hugging him tightly and telling him how so, so sorry he was, almost like he felt responsible in a way.

And when he was kidnapped and tortured in Afghanistan, when he was betrayed by a man he had almost considered a father, when Iron Man was born from the ashes of Tony Stark, his uncle arrived and smiled at him, but said not another word before turning around and walking away.

And, even though he never saw his uncle again after that, there were times when he fought alongside Steve, when he wasn't looking too closely and only caught a glimpse of the man from the corner of his eye, that he was reminded of the eerie similarity the two men had.

And, after a decade and a half of blood and sweat and tears, of all his failures, of his beloved team falling apart, of his surrogate son dying, of his beautiful daughter being born, of every single thing he had gone through only to die in the end, he finally found peace in the afterlife, happy and warm and loved.

And finally, an unknown amount of time later, he finally saw his uncle again. His uncle, his best friend, his captain, his Steve, all somehow one and the same.

And he was happy.

* * *

I changed Steve's name because I had a feeling people might be a bit suspicious at Peggy marrying a man who looked almost exactly like Steve, with the same first name. I also had him dye his hair and grow a beard, since the Avengers are masters of disguise. I probably should have added a baseball cap, but you know that hindsight is 20/20. ;-) Also, naming Steve "John Carter" was completely an accident, but was too funny for me to change. Part of me thinks that Steve would do that on purpose, the little prankster he can be.

Also, I have a feeling that, in order to stop from changing things too much, Steve wouldn't be able to spend much time with Tony. After all, providing him too much support would change who he is, right? It could potentially alter things too much. I still don't quite understand how time travel works in the MCU (They can't change the past, but Steve can enter the past and live up until the present day, all without altering anything? What?), so I just went with my instinct on that. I hope I wrote their interactions in a satisfactory way, though!


	2. Steve

Hey all! So, this story got a lot of positive feedback, and I felt the urge to write a piece in Steve's point of view. It's... well, I don't want to sabotage my work before y'all read it, but I think it is a bit weak. A bit boring. I like it enough to post it, but if y'all have issues with it, know that I do too. It's a bit of a different format, since I didn't want to just write the first chapter but with Steve's thoughts. That would be more boring, in my mind. So I just did an introspection, Steve thinking about his life following his decision, and then during the events of the first chapter. There's very little actual dialogue in this chapter, despite being over 8,000 words. I considered making it it's own story, but I'm too tired to do that. So hope at least some of y'all like it. I'd be open to constructive criticism, but I just ask you to be kind. I'm currently in Finals week, so I didn't have much time to edit this thing. -.-

Also, I just rewatched Iron Man and learned that Tony made his first circuit board at age 4, not robot. Ehhh, we'll hand wave that one. There's no saying that Tony couldn't have also built a robot at age 4. Like, a basic one. Baby's first robot. After all, what is a circuit board if not a primaries robot? … can y'all tell I'm a psychology major, not a hard science major?

Also, I do fudge with some canon, simply because I can't remember what is fanon and what is actually canon at this point. And my memory for a lot of the movies is faulty at best. So I apologize if I fudge some details. Let me know if there is anything truly bad or misinformed. Thanks!

One last thing! Sorry. But do know that, while this chapter is told in Steve's perspective, I'm a Tony girl through and through. So most of this story revolves around Tony, not Steve.

Enjoy!

* * *

One of the first things Steve had thought after seeing Peggy in the 70's was "there must be a way I can get back there."

It hadn't been a pressing thought, at first. It had just been a short, intrusive, deeply aching desire. Something he wanted, more than anything else, but was likely an impossibility. Who knew where this all would lead? Who knew where this time journey would end up? For all he knew, they all could die.

Well, that hadn't happened. Not everyone died. But Tony did. Brave, stupid, secretly kind Tony.

That still hurt. Thinking of Tony. Of his death. They had never really seen eye to eye. Apparently, Howard has never gotten over his supposed death and had spent most of Tony's childhood harping on and on about Captain America. Tony never outright told him, since Tony was probably the most secretive, hidden person he knew, but Steve knew that he never got over that underlying anger in his heart. And, in a way, Steve couldn't blame him. He'd never really known his father, but he had a feeling it would hurt something fierce if his dad had rejected him for someone else.

So no. They'd never seen eye to eye. Their relationship was poisoned from the outright, for Tony's prejudice against him, and his own prejudice against Tony. When they'd first met, he hadn't seen past Tony's armor. He'd just seen what Tony portrayed; an arrogant, careless man. Then he'd sacrificed his life to save everyone. For the first time. That had changed his mind.

But some things can never get fixed. Sometimes, first impressions last lifetimes. And even after learning of Tony's heart, they still could not get along. Tony disliked him; Steve couldn't believe in Tony's point of view… they were just two different people forced to spend time together. Like two teenagers forced to work on a project together, both on opposite sides of the highest tier of the social hierarchy. Strong personalities, leaders, but forced to butt heads. It never would have worked out.

Still, Steve liked to think of Tony as a friend. One of his best, had things ended differently. Had they not had Howard over their heads. Had they not had to fight. Had things been just a little different. He'd hated having to leave, after their little war, after Sokovia. He wished, more than anything, that they could have come to an agreement. That Tony could have seen that his anger at the Accords wasn't that they needed accountability, but because the Accords were worded in a way to completely control them. And from a government such as the U.S's? Steve had no confidence that they'd be used properly. He had no desire to be run by another Hydra. Learning S.H.I.E.L.D had been infiltrated by Hydra had kind of ruined him for being controlled by another organization. Not to mention the things America did in the war after he'd fallen in the ice…

Still, it had hurt him, hurting Tony. Especially since the worst offense wasn't even due to the Accords. It was his inability to tell him about what Bucky did. He had told himself it was to protect Tony, but in truth, it was just to protect himself. And Bucky. But not Tony. Not Tony. And he regretted that.

But what's done was done. He was a fugitive and his relationship with Tony was broken beyond repair. Especially after everything Tony had warned them about had come true, leaving them out numbered and out matched, causing them to lose. Tony had been right all along, and Steve hadn't taken heed. He'd been a bit naive, believing they could save the day, no matter what. Because the good guys always won, right?

Those five years were some of the hardest of his life. Even worse than becoming accustomed to life in the 21st century. It was made even worse knowing that Tony wouldn't even see him, that their relationship was truly broken beyond repair. He'd heard about Tony's daughter, and that had made things a little better. Knowing that the man who had been so afraid of turning into his father was able to find happiness with his family. Steve knew he'd be a wonderful father. He was a little rough around the edges, but he cared so deeply.

It hurt, ripping Tony from that. Taking him from his happiness. But… but if they had a chance to fix everything… they had to do it. Sometimes Steve hated being a pragmatist. After all, if anyone deserved a happy ending, it was Tony. But it was the way it was.

It hadn't surprised him in the least when Tony came to them, having solved their problem. He knew that Tony would never leave the world behind, even for his own happiness. In a way, Tony was also a pragmatist. He'd never be able to live with himself if he had a chance to save the world but had rejected it. In a way, he had counted on it. Yes, Bruce was smart, but he had nothing on Tony. No one did.

And that had led him to see Peggy. And a thought had formed, so quickly, it had almost winded him. Seeing her, seeing what he could have had…

Tony died. He hadn't watched, hadn't seen, but he'd known it had happened, when Thanos's forces had disappeared into dust. If there was one person who would sacrifice himself for the greater good, it was Tony.

After that, he had had no reason to stay. He wasn't sure what would have happened, had Tony lived, but the fact remained that, while dead, Steve had nothing really tying him to this time. Especially since Natasha had also died. Another blow, but more understandable. Less painful, in a way. That's what she was born for, like Steve. A soldier, through and through, dying in battle. Tony wasn't a soldier. He was a scientist, an inventor. This was never supposed to have been his fight, yet he had made it his fight.

And while he had his other friends, had Sam, and Bucky, and Bruce, and Clint, and everyone else he had met since coming to this time… he didn't belong here. He knew it. Hell, everyone probably knew it. He was a man out of time.

And so, after he had put back the time stones, after he had fixed (most of) the other timelines, he had had a choice.

He had spent hours staring at the miniature time machine on his wrist. Hours and hours just staring at it. He knew what he wanted. He knew how tired he was. Knew that, should he go back to the present, he wouldn't be able to fight anymore. He had done so much. Gone through so much. He was tired. Bone tired. He'd lost two of his best friends. He had to live with the fact that he had ripped Tony from his happy family and had to live with the fact that Tony would never get that back. He couldn't keep fighting.

If he went back, to the past… if he lived his life, with Peggy… he had a chance. To live. To be happy. To have what had been ripped from him, all those years ago, after diving into the ice.

Finally, hours and hours and hours later, he had made up his mind. They'd be fine without him. They had Carol. They had Dr. Strange. They had both Peters, and the Guardians of the Galaxy. They had the Hulk, and Hawkeye, and even Thor, should he find a way to live with his grief. They had Sam and Bucky. They would be fine without him. Without Tony, and Natasha. They'd be fine. But he wouldn't. If he returned only to keep fighting… no. He wouldn't be fine.

So he had made up his mind. And, before he could second guess himself, he made the jump.

And that was how he had found himself outside Peggy's house, 1957, smiling at the love of his life.

It had taken a while to explain what had happened. She hadn't cared, at first. She'd invited him in and kissed him, so sweetly. They'd shared their dance, finally. She hadn't asked any questions. Hadn't wanted to know. But Steve had to explain. To at least one person, he had to explain.

So he had. For hours he had told Peggy everything that had happened, from falling into the ice, to the Attack on New York, to the forming of the Avengers, to the dismantling of the Avengers, to Thanos. To Tony. To everything. She had listened to him, eyes dry, just listening. When he had finally finished, she had smiled at him, as a few tears fell. He understood. He had started crying when he'd talked about finding Bucky. And hadn't stopped since then.

But there was a major problem with going into the past to live, one he was now truly understanding. There was no way to fix things. No way to change the past. Tony had been very adamant about that. The past could not be changed. Steve wasn't sure he understood how time travel worked, but he understood that much. He couldn't change anything. And it was starting to hit him, that fact. He would have to watch as S.H.I.E.L.D was infiltrated by Hydra. He'd have to watch as the Avengers formed and broke up. Hell, he'd have to watch every war America had, knowing the outcome, and not be able to do anything. It was daunting.

But… but, looking at Peggy, seeing how happy she was to see him, knowing how happy he was to see her… it was worth it. Even knowing he couldn't do anything to help people. It was worth it.

The worst part was Bucky. He knew what his old friend was going through. He knew how he was being tortured. And yet, he could do nothing. Peggy had hugged him so tightly when he'd mentioned that, his eyes dry only because he had no more tears to cry.

But this was his life. This was what he should have had. He had returned to the point in time he would have existed in, 1957, when he'd have been 39-years-old had things gone the way they should have gone. And he'd just have to… well, not forget the future, but ignore it. Move past it. This was what he should have had, all along. The future would happen. It would always happen. And he'd have to pretend to be as oblivious as everyone else.

Peggy was a huge help. She'd helped him get a new identity. Helped him become someone new. They'd married pretty quick, so that he could take her name and not be as suspicious. He had chosen the name John, partially because it was the most generic name he could think of, but also as a brief nod to the future he still remembered (after all, Tony had told him to see the movie John Carter, another soldier forced out of his element and into a war he had no right to be in.)

He'd gotten a job for the government. It was ironic, he felt, but it let him do something good. Something right. He oversaw the military and made decisions for war. Even back in the past, he couldn't completely stay away from war. But maybe he could minimize the damage done in Vietnam and help with the Cold War. Maybe he could help, without completely giving himself away.

And he liked to think he did. He became a celebrated military hero. He saved lives.

And he had a couple kids. After his first child was born, a daughter, he understood just how much Tony had sacrificed by helping them fix the past. Just how much he had had to lose. Holding his daughter in his arms that first time… well, let's just say he finally understood. And he wasn't sure he'd have been so brave.

For a while, things were good. Not great. Not perfect. But good. He had a life. He had Peggy, and his children, and friends. No one knew he was Captain America. He stayed away from Howard and his fellow commandos, knowing they'd see through his disguise. He kept to himself, for the most part, and just lived out his life as John Carter, a man once out of time, but now put back in place.

It was hard, at times. Knowing the future. Knowing what would happen. Adjusting to the past was almost as hard as adjusting to the future had been. He hadn't even known how reliant he'd become on technology until he hadn't had it anymore. Google was a Godsend he had come to realize. But after a couple years, he had gotten used to it again. Even to the thought that he would just have to be an observer for much of history. He would have to toe the line, make little changes, at most. It was not what he was used to, the righteous man who did what was right, regardless of consequences, but after Thanos… after he had failed, after he had denied Tony and doomed the planet, he felt that maybe it was time to change his ways. Maybe it was time to toe the line and keep his head down. Maybe it was time to rest. As much as a man like him could rest, of course.

Then it was 1970. He had spent the whole year tense, afraid. He knew what was happening that year. He knew the events.

He still didn't understand time travel. If the timeline he was in was the same timeline as the one he'd left. If he'd changed too much. He tried to keep his actions as similar to what he'd read of Peggy's husband, when he'd looked the man up, but he didn't know for sure. But assuming this was the same time, he knew what was happening.

All in all, the year went by without any incident. The date that he and Tony had travelled to had come and past without incident. And he began to breathe easy again.

And then, then it had happened. Peggy had gotten a call from Howard, breathless, excited, saying that it was time. Peggy, sweet Peggy, has packed up and spent the night at the hospital, sitting by the side of her old friend, keeping him calm as his first, and only, child was born.

Steve had known it was coming. He'd read the announcement in the paper. Had heard from Peggy how excited and scared Howard was. Had known, on an intrinsic level what would happen that year.

But he had ignored it. Had pushed it aside. Had focused on what would happen with the future, had focused on the Cold War, had focused on anything but the birth of one of his dearest friends. Even if they'd never seen eye to eye. Even if they were polar opposites. They had been friends, once. Once.

The first time he had met baby Tony was a month after his birth. Steve was very careful to stay away from Howard, knowing how smart the man was and how desperate he was to find Steve. It did pain him, knowing that his old friend was looking for him, fruitlessly, but that was one thing he couldn't change. After all, a big part of Tony's life was that his father was so focused on Captain America. To change that…

It was just another thing he wanted to fix but couldn't. So he stayed away from Howard. But a month after Tony's birth, his father was called away on a business meeting. Maria, despite the fact she was still recovering from giving birth, had gone with him, leaving Tony with their butler, Edwin Jarvis. Steve had never met Jarvis before the ice (and Peggy swore the man was trustworthy and wouldn't tell his secret even if he found out), so when Peggy had begged him to come with her, to meet the infant version of his dear, dead friend, well… he couldn't say that he wasn't curious.

It had been similar to the time he'd met his daughter, meeting baby Tony. He'd been so tiny, so fragile. It was like Steve would break him if he held him. But he didn't. He held Tony, so small and fragile, in his strong arms, and felt at peace. Like something that had been broken in him had finally mended.

He knew this child's story. He knew the heartache and pain he would go through. He knew about his death. But he also knew his legacy. His power. His love and joy. He knew everything this child would face. He knew how his story would end. But at least he was here. Alive. Fresh and new, unknowing of the heartache he would one day face.

But he found that in that moment, Steve wanted more than anything to take this child and hide him away. To protect him from the future that he knew. To make sure he knew that he was loved. For, in that moment, Steve knew he loved this child. Not in a creepy way, but as he loved his own children.

Yet he couldn't. He knew what this child would face. The doubts that would fill him from a young age. The pain he'd feel, fighting for the love of a father who didn't know how to show his love. And that's how the world was supposed to go. Tony Stark had to face his demons. He had to go through that pain. It was his destiny.

When he'd gotten home that night, he'd cried. That peace he had felt, holding Tony, had broken at the realization of what that poor child would have to go through. It was the first personal case Steve had of how he couldn't change the past. Yes, he'd had instances of that with the wars he'd helped with, but this was the first that struck a personal note. He'd give anything to save Tony from his fate, but this was what Steve had to do, if he wanted his own peace. His own life.

Peggy had held him, as he cried. Shushed him. Told him it would all work out as it was meant to work out. That it was part of God's plan. Steve didn't even know if he believed in God anymore, but he listened to her, and hoped it was true. At least Tony would find happiness, eventually. He'd have Pepper, and Rhodes, and Happy, and Peter, and his daughter. He'd find some level of peace, in his life. That had to be something.

So life went on. Steve and Peggy would babysit Tony every so often, when he was too young to remember him. Steve would spend hours listening to baby Tony babble, smiling a bittersweet smile as he remembered his friend, who'd speak at breakneck speeds, needing to get every thought out of his head as fast as he could. Even at the age of fifteen months Tony was so smart. He could speak in almost full sentences, could even read basic books. By the time he was two, he was reading children's books made for eight-year-olds, and by the time he was three he was reading high school level books. He was so intelligent; Steve would just listen to him babble for hours. So much like his older self it wasn't even funny. It was actually very heartbreaking, but Steve did his best to keep that from Tony. He didn't want to be yet another adult who let Tony down.

When Tony was kidnapped when he was two and a half, Steve was almost beside himself with worry and anger. He'd never known about this, hadn't known that Tony had ever been kidnapped before Afghanistan. But then, there was precious little Steve knew about Tony's life as a child. He'd never really gotten to know Tony, when they were teammates. He regretted that so keenly, now. He regretted not being better friends with the man. He liked to think they'd have been great ones, had they had the chance. Had Steve given Tony the chance.

Regardless, he knew he had to find the boy. He didn't care if he ruined the timeline. If he changed too much. He'd lost Tony once. He couldn't lose him again. Not when he had so much to live for.

All in all, it had taken him a week to find the kidnappers. Part of him wasn't proud what he did to the men who had stupidly taken his friend, but the majority of him didn't care. Tony was important to him. Both older Tony and young Tony. He'd lost too much to lose anymore.

Of course, once Tony hit the age of three, Steve had to stop spending time with him. He could run the risk of changing the future, of having Tony remember him as an adult. But mostly, he was afraid he'd slip up. That he'd tell Tony about his future. Or that he'd change the future, by yelling at Howard for hurting his son. He was already feeling the beginnings of anger towards his old friend, knowing what Howard's parenting would do to Tony. He knew that Howard was a good man, that he was trying his best. But it still rankled, knowing what that child would go through at the hand of his old friend.

It was hard enough for Peggy, who knew of the future but had to keep up appearances. And she hadn't met adult Tony. Hadn't seen the hopeless look in his eyes. The heartache and the pain. She didn't see how Tony would look at him sometimes, with accusing, pained eyes, remembering what his father had done. It would be impossible for him to be around Tony and not want to sooth his heart any way he could. To make sure the boy knew that he had someone on his side.

So he stayed away. He watched over him from a distance, hearing stories from Peggy, who loved the boy almost as much as he did. He heard of the mischievous, brilliant child Tony Stark became. He saw his accomplishments and his achievements; heard of the robot he'd created at the tender age of four. Such a brilliant child, Steve knew. The alarm clock Tony had made them had been prominently displayed in their bedroom.

And in his little office, kept secret from everyone but his wife, a place not even his children were allowed to enter, he kept all of the things that Tony made and left at their house during his visits. All the little scraps he'd put together. All the blueprints and scribbles he created. There was even a little photo book that Steve kept, of Tony through the years, so he could remember the boy as he currently was.

Steve kept them all, heart aching, knowing that he'd have to be absent in Tony's life, but that Tony didn't have to be absent in his. Steve was getting old, now. Almost sixty. His children were almost adults. His youngest was 14, oldest was 16. Soon they'd leave the house and start lives of their own. Peggy's blood nephew would have a daughter soon, Sharon. That was a bit strange for Steve to realize, but he did his best to ignore it.

The fact was, he had lived a lot of his life. He wanted Tony to be part of it, in some way. Maybe then, he could find some of the forgiveness he was yearning for. Some way to forgive himself for ignoring Tony and then leading the man to his death, so soon after he had found true happiness.

Tony would get kidnapped again, at age eight, and Steve would fight tooth and nail to find him again. He sent Peggy to retrieve him, knowing that he couldn't see the boy. It would hurt so much. It would just make things worse, knowing what he knew, but unable to do anything about it.

Sometimes Peggy would beg him to see Tony. Tell him that Tony could use a strong male figure in his life, someone beside Jarvis to look up to. But that was exactly the reason he had to stay away. To his knowledge (which, admittedly, was limited when it came to Tony's young life), he didn't exist to Tony. Not in his timeline. Though… Tony had never mentioned Peggy, either. And Steve had a feeling that, even had he not come back, Peggy would have adored Tony all the same.

Still, he couldn't. He'd keep the boy safe, would protect him from physical harm, but he couldn't interact. Couldn't interfere. He hated it, but that's the way it had to be.

And then Tony was ten.

Peggy had told him about how distant Tony was becoming, with everyone. Maria had started to distance herself at Howard's request, claiming that Tony was becoming a man and needed to act like it. Another way that Steve was growing to hate his old friend, but he understood where Howard was coming from. He didn't mean to be cruel. It was just how the world worked, in his mind.

Steve's youngest had moved out earlier that year, having turned 18 and headed off to college. He had originally wanted to go into the military, like his mother and father, but Steve had convinced him to try medicine, to become a doctor. His eldest had gone the military route, and it pained him to see it, though he was very proud of her.

As it stood, Steve didn't have anything to really distract him. He had his job, the Cold War still ongoing, but as he knew how the war ended, it didn't seem as imperative to him as it should. And so, hearing about Tony and his distance, the child slowly becoming the man Steve knew… it took precedence in his life.

He watched over Tony from his distance. He had Peggy and Jarvis keep an eye on him. It hurt him, knowing that Tony was beginning to take on the heartache that would last the rest of his life, but there was nothing he could do.

It was mid-August when Tony came over for a week to visit. School was out, Howard and Maria had to go on a business trip, and Jarvis was busy taking care of his ailing wife. Tony had jumped at the chance to spend the week with his Aunt Peggy, even calling them up at five in the morning to get their opinion. Peggy had, of course, said yes. She adored Tony and missed having children in the house. While she was a military woman, she adored having children of her own to dote on.

That just meant that Steve would have to be "out of town" that week, but that was fine. He had a good excuse, that his work needed him. They didn't, really, but what Tony didn't know couldn't hurt him.

So he had kissed Peggy goodbye and had left for a hotel room. He made sure Peggy had the number of the hotel, in case something happened, and left it at that.

Two days later, at nine at night, he got a call at the hotel.

Steve answered it, heart clenched, hoping nothing had happened.

"John? Are you there?" Peggy asked, voice a bit shaky. It was never a good sign, when Peggy's voice shook.

"Peggy? What happened? And I'm alone. You can speak clearly," Steve replied, instantly worried. He still made sure to give her his signal, so she knew that she could talk to him plainly, without their codes or the false name he hated. He heard her sigh, full of upset.

"Oh, Steve. It's, it's nothing major. But there was an… incident, with Tony."

"An incident? Is he alright? Is anyone hurt? Peg-" Steve began, cutting Peggy off as his worry mounted. 'An incident' with Tony could go anywhere from a tantrum to something exploding. He truly was a vivacious child. Before he could get started, though, Peggy cut him off.

"No, no, nothing like that. No one is hurt. No explosions this time. I just… I think it's hitting him hard, these days. His parents are always on trips. The last time Howard was around longer than a week was… God, I honestly can't remember. /_I've_/ spent more time with Howard than Tony has. I've tried speaking to Howard, but, Steve, you remember what he's like. Won't listen to anyone about anything. I just… I fear for Tony."

Steve sighed, knowing this song. Peggy would talk to him about this every so often. How Tony wasn't doing well. How he needed someone, male, to look up to. Jarvis was great, but he could only do so much. And Peggy was a good role model, but she still couldn't replace a father's love.

But Steve knew this was how it was supposed to be. He couldn't interfere. He just… he couldn't.

Right?

"Peggy," Steve sighed, "you know that I can't do anything. This is just… this is how it's meant to be. I hate it. I do. But…"

And he did hate it. So much. Steve Rogers was a man of action. He saw something wrong in the world, so he did everything in his power to fix it. Consequences be damned. But this… this was too important to ruin. This was the fate of the entire universe. Tony Stark, like it or not, had a role to play. And Steve… like it or not, Steve couldn't change that. And, unfortunately, having a bad childhood was part of Tony Stark.

"I know Steve. I know. But he's just a boy. A lonely, heartbroken boy. I wish I could take his place. To fulfill his destiny for him. He's such a brilliant child. And I know I can't. But… maybe you could just meet him? Just once. Let him know you're out there. That you care. He needs that, Steve. He would love to meet you. You know he would."

Steve sighed again, heart breaking. Because he knew that Tony would. Peggy had told him about the questions Tony would have about her husband. His curiosity. But still…

"It's dangerous, Peggy. You know that."

"Yes, I know. I know. But he's just a boy! He needs someone, Steve. He needs you. It's dangerous, yes I know, but…"

"Peggy," Steve interrupted, feeling desperate. He didn't know what happened, but he could tell it had shaken his wife. More so than usual. What could he do? "I can't. That's the condition I willingly took when I came back here. When I chose to live out this life. I can't change things. You know that."

"Of course I know that, Steve! I've been living this for years, of course I know. But it would do him good. He was sneaking around the house today. He almost got into your office. One way or another, he's going to find something out. Steve, please. It would be best for him to hear this from you. Not me. Not from sneaking around. You don't even have to tell him anything about the future. Or who you are. Just… meet him. Give him something. Anything. Be better than his father."

And that hurt. Howard was Steve's friend, had helped make him into what he was today. But Steve would never forgive the man for what he'd unknowingly done to his son. What he was currently doing. What Steve couldn't fix. In the future, Steve hadn't really thought much about Howard. It had hurt, knowing the man had died, but it wasn't for a while before he'd learned about what kind of a father he had been.

Steve never would have pegged the man as a fatherly type. Learning he had a son had honestly surprised him. But he hadn't thought of it much past that. Over the years, during the times of peace between Tony and Steve, he had learned a little about the relationship Tony and Howard had had.

Steve remembered one time, a few months before Sokovia, after they had learned about Hydra but before things had fallen apart. During the few months that the team had actually been a /_team_/. He and Tony had been drinking. Alcohol did precious little to him, but it still had an effect on Tony in large quantities. And Tony had been drinking like a champ that night. It was Howard's birthday, Steve recalled.

Tony had been talking, like usual. Chattering on and on about nothing and everything. Steve had honestly been a bit annoyed, though he had done his best to appear to listen. He had a feeling Tony faced that a lot, which made his heart hurt, looking back. Still, it was after about half an hour of chatter that Tony had turned to him and grew very quiet. Quieter than he'd ever figured the man could be.

"You knew him. Yeah? Howard."

It was a statement. Not a question. Obviously, they knew one another, Howard helped make him. Humoring the other man, Steve had nodded.

"Yes. He was a good friend of mine, back in the day. I was sorry to hear about his death."

Tony snorted, taking another drink. His fifteenth of the night. Steve was starting to get concerned.

"Yeah. Yeah. Sometimes I am, too. I hated him for a long time, you know. Despised the man. And you, too. Hated you."

Steve had felt affronted at that. To his knowledge, he had done nothing to earn Tony's hatred. Luckily, Tony continued before he could interject with his affront.

"Yeah. But I can see it, you know? What dear old dad saw in you. Perfect Steve Rogers. Amazing Captain America. He never stopped looking for you, you know. He was gone most of my childhood, off in the Arctic, looking for that damned plane. Knew you were out there. Theorized that the serum might have saved your life, that you might still be alive. Guess the old man was right all along, eh?"

Tony poured himself another drink, his sixteenth, swaying. Steve had stood, then, and put a hand over his, stopping him. He tried not to think of what Tony had told him. He later found that it wasn't quite true. Howard would chase leads when they came up, but mostly had given up on Steve. But he supposed it didn't matter to Tony, much. Even once or twice was more attention than the man had paid Tony.

"Maybe you should stop, Tony. You've had enough."

But that was the wrong thing to say, apparently. Tony turned to him, anger in his eyes. But deeper, far deeper… Steve could detect pain.

"I'll tell you when I've had enough. And I, I'm not done. Howard. Oh, he always had a good thing to say about his precious Steve. Loved you, that man did. Sometimes I wonder just in what way, you know? Maybe Aunt Peggy would have had some competition, had you stayed, huh?" Tony had leered, anger in his eyes. He didn't try and drink, though. Steve had felt his jaw clench but said nothing. He'd faced enough angry men in his life to know that sometimes, it was best to just ride it out.

"But maybe not. Howard was always a man of secrets. Claimed I was his greatest creation. Or, something. Never knew that, when he was alive, but eh. What can you do? Would have thought that you were his greatest creation, but maybe the old man was feeling charitable that day. Who knows? Not fucking me, that's for sure."

Tony went for the alcohol again. Steve held him back, a pitying look in his eyes. Clearly, he was stuck in some bad memories.

"Maybe you should stop, Tony. It's getting late. Why don't I call Pepper and have her pick you up?"

"Ah! Pepper. Lovely Pepper. Love her, you know? Wonder if I'll turn into Howard one day. If we'll become like my parents. Mom loved Howard, once. No idea if she did at the end. Never got to say goodbye. To either of them. I wish I had. I wonder if I'll ever have a kid. Ha! Can you imagine that? I'd fuck that kid up so bad."

Tony started giggling at that, eyes shiny. He began to fall over, causing Steve to grab him and keep him upright. Steve had called Pepper after that, telling her to pick him up and that he was feeling a bit out of it. Pepper had just sighed, sounding so resigned, saying she'd be there soon.

The pair had sat in silence after that, Steve leading Tony to the sofa in the small apartment they were holed up in. Steve's, at the time. Steve wasn't sure how Tony had ended up at his place, or why. They'd never spent much time together, and most of it was at Tony's tower.

It was after ten minutes had passed, Pepper almost there according to a text, that Tony continued to speak.

"I wanted so bad to hate you, you know. Dad, he… he would speak of you so often. I thought he loved you more than me. I wanted to hate you for that. But it… it's not your fault, is it? That you're so… so… /_fucking_/ perfect. You can't help that. You remind me of my uncle, sometimes. Haven't seen him in years. Wonder how he is. Guess he finally saw me as I am. That's fine. Don't need him. I'm fine.

"Still. Gotta wonder. What he'd think of me now. I wonder if he'd be ashamed of me. I am, sometimes. No, that's a lie. I'm perfect. Why would I be ashamed? Heh. I wonder if we could ever be friend, huh, Steve? If we could ever be friends."

Steve had shifted awkwardly at that, as Tony turned his eyes, wide and bloodshot, onto him. Steve never knew how to talk to Tony. He wished he did.

"We are friends, Tony. We are."

Tony had snorted at that, letting out a peel of laughter.

"Ahh. Good one, Cap. Good one." A knock sounded at the door right then, drawing Tony's eyes to the door. "Ahh. Guess that's me. I'll see myself out. Don't, don't get up. I know the way. Tiny apartment, you know? I should get you a bigger one. Living legend like you, deserve a big apartment. Anyway, see you later, Cap. Ciao."

Tony had stood then and answered the door, opening his arms wide to a mildly disapproving Pepper. Steve had followed them out, making sure Tony was okay. Pepper had apologized for Tony, but Steve had waved her off. It wasn't a problem, really.

And it hadn't been. For all his faults, Steve had liked spending time with Tony. Sometimes. Maybe he should have done it more often.

"Steve? Steve, are you still there?"

The voice that came from the phone broke into his thoughts, drawing him back from the past. Or, the future. His past. This timeline's future.

"I, yeah. I'm here. Just… I'll think about it, okay, Peg? I just… I'll think about it."

After that they said goodbye and Steve hung up, sitting slowly on the chair the hotel provided.

He had failed Tony, once. He had considered them friends. Had thought they were close enough. But maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he'd never really been a friend to Tony. Maybe he hadn't been what the man had needed.

Maybe it was time to rectify that.

And so, despite his better judgement, he had found himself stood in front of his house at 11 am, keys clenched in his hand as he had second thoughts.

This was a bad idea. There was so much that could go wrong. To his knowledge, he was in the same timeline that he had existed in. He had no idea how any of this worked, but he knew that if he messed up, there could be consequences.

But… but, sometimes, Tony would mention an uncle. It was very infrequently, and only when he was drunk, like that night. He'd mention Aunt Peggy, and some nebulous uncle. Steve wouldn't listen, his heart too pained to hear about the love of his life's husband, but maybe… maybe…

So he jammed the key in the door before he could think on it clearly, turning the lock and opening the door.

He honestly should have expected what followed. Tony was always recklessly brave, a trait that he apparently had ever since childhood. The boy hadn't done any damage, had mostly startled Steve more than anything, but it had made his heart hurt so much to see the boy that would become the man he knew.

He'd seen pictures of Tony, but it had nothing on him in person, age ten, his face looking like a miniaturized version of the one he'd known for 12 years of his life. And his personality… God, the kid was practically a tiny Tony. He even had the same facial expressions.

Steve had almost broken down, seeing him. Instead, he had laughed. Laughed hard, harder than he could remember in months. Tony had been so affronted at that, doing his best to defend his aunt and her house.

Learning he'd been kidnapped for three days once had been sobering, though. He hadn't known that. He hadn't known that Tony had had to go through that, alone.

At least that had gotten him to stop his assault.

And then Tony hadn't trusted his identity, which was very Tony of him, causing some tears to form in his eyes. To rid the boy of his fears, he had shown the boy his license, then his wedding photo, knowing that a wedding photo was harder to alter. In the 80's, at least. He couldn't even resist the urge to bring up a reference that, for once, Tony wouldn't understand.

Then he'd shown the boy the one picture he kept on him of the two of them. It was his favorite, of the few he had. Peggy had taken it, when Tony was a year old, the two deep in "conversation." The baby had been chattering on and on, words too fast to keep up with. Half of them might have even been gibberish, seeing as he was only a year at the time. But Steve had been hanging onto every single word, determined to never ignore anything Tony said ever again. It might have been irrational, but it had been nice, listening to baby Tony chatter. Peggy had taken the photo and shown him after. He had kept it in his wallet ever since, to remind him of the boy always.

Tony had looked at the photo with a kind of reverence he'd never seen before. It had hurt his heart, his eyes still misty from earlier. But Tony had accepted that he was who he said he was. So Steve had entered the house and spoke with Tony.

And he had started to see what had concerned his wife so much. The loneliness. The sorrow. The self-doubt. Even though Steve knew that this was how the world was supposed to be, he took a moment to curse it all, as he let his arms wrap around Tony. This poor boy… he'd been through much, and he would only go through worse. It would get worse, far worse, before it could ever get better. Steve knew that.

It did hurt him something fierce, knowing that his inaction, his distance had hurt Tony. He hadn't thought the boy would care. That he wouldn't even notice the absence of a pseudo uncle he'd never even met before. But, Steve figured, as he tried to explain himself to the boy, trying not to give too much away but knowing the boy was too smart to lie to, Tony had been abandoned by so many people in his life. Of course it would hurt.

The boy had cried, then, which Steve knew that Tony hated to do, since Howard had drilled into him that men don't cry. Which was bullshit (pardon his language), in Steve's opinion. Men cried. It wasn't unheard of to see a soldier crying, late at night, for everything he had seen and done. Hell, Steve had cried often enough his own. Men cried. It wasn't shameful.

The boy didn't believe him, but maybe one day he would.

Then, the boy had screamed his name, frightening the hell out of him. Thinking he'd been had. But it was just a robot. A silly little thing, not anything close to the robots Tony would build, but still. It was an amazing feat, for a child of ten.

And then… then they had spoken of him. Captain America. Steve Rogers.

And Steve had felt an age-old anger flare in him at his old friend. Howard really did a number on his kid, didn't he? He'd watched as Tony ran off, towards his room, and had just followed. He pounded on the door, begging to be let in, but he got no answer. So, he resigned himself to waiting. He took a seat and was determined to wait however long it took before Tony exited.

Hours passed, his stomach growling, but he waited. And, eventually, he was rewarded. Tony came out, and they spoke again.

During the time he'd waited, he had been thinking about what to say. What he could possibly say, to make things better. To help Tony. To fix his past sins. And, over the hours, he had settled on a speech. One that he meant with all of his heart and wished he had told Tony earlier. Or, later, in this timeline.

"Look, I know I've not been there for you. And I, I'm sorry Tony. I was afraid. And I still am. There's a lot going on that you don't know about, that I won't be able to tell you, ever. But I need you to know one thing. You listening?"

He paused, waiting for Tony to respond. When the boy did, nodding while he sniffled, Steve continued.

"You are one of the most important things to me. You are probably the best man I've ever met, and I've met a lot of great men. One day, you will become the best of all of us. Better than your father. Better than me. And far better than Captain America. You will save this entire universe, Tony, again and again. You will face challenges and hardships, but you will never back down. You will prove to the world that Tony Stark is a man of integrity and goodness. You will bring pride and prestige to your family name. People for generations will know the name Tony Stark. I promise you this, Tony. I promise you. You have so much potential inside of you. So much greatness. So much goodness. And know that, while we might not always see eye to eye, I will always, always be proud of you and who you will become. Do you understand?"

It had felt good, to finally get the words out. He had wanted to tell Tony something like that for years. To let him know that, while they hadn't always been on the same page, or even on the same book, Steve respected him greatly. That, for a man that had no right to have been put into a battle position, he had done so much good. That he had saved so many people. That he was, and always would be, a good man. And it was too little, too late. Or too early. And it didn't make up for the lack of words when Tony was an adult. But it had felt so good to get the words out. To let Tony, at least one version of him, know how proud he was.

And when Tony hugged him, something Steve knew the child didn't initiate often anymore, it felt like forgiveness. He knew it wasn't the forgiveness he wanted, the kind he yearned for, from a man far older and far sadder, but it was something. Something.

Tony had changed moods after that, excitedly showing Steve his little robot, named, ironically, after himself.

What followed was one of the best days in Steve's recent memory. Spending time with Tony… he'd almost forgotten what the man had been like but spending time with his younger counterpoint reminded him right quick.

After putting Tony to bed that night, after promising to spend the rest of the week with him, Steve had gotten into bed with his wife. Peggy had been smiling at him all night, letting him know that he had done right by her. Which he was pleased with. He loved making Peggy happy with him.

"I told you it would be fine. He needs you, Steve. You can't deny that," she whispered, hand caressing the side of his face as they laid down in bed. They were both too tried and too old to do anything, but he still kissed her, gently, pulling her close to his side. Despite all his regrets about coming to the past, he'd never forget, nor regret, the reason he came back in the first place. It made it all worth it, in a way.

"I know. I know. I hope I can help him, at least a little. That some part of adult Tony will remember this, and it will make it at least a little easier for him. I won't be able to see him often, but maybe… maybe it'll be fine if we spend just a little time together." Steve chuckled then, shaking his head as a thought occurred. "The greatest irony is that the best person to ask about this is the very one causing this dilemma in the first place. Life sure is funny."

And it was. It really was.

But, as he spent the rest of the week with his nephew (and that took some getting used to, seeing Tony Stark as his nephew), it wasn't bad.

It was hard. Watching as Tony grew but not being able to spare him the pain. Knowing that he could spare Tony so much pain if he just told the boy. But it was also wonderful, being part of Tony's life. They only met maybe once a year, if that, but each time was wonderful. And he still heard all about Tony and his exploits from Peggy and Jarvis (who had, at some point, figured out his identity. Steve still didn't know how that had happened but knew that his secret was safe with the one man who was consistently there for Tony, and whose memory would inspire a creation that would save Tony's life a thousand times over). It wasn't perfect, it wasn't great, but it was good.

Through the years, he kept the robot Tony had given him in his office, in a spot that he would always be able to see, never to be taken down. Even after it broke and wouldn't dance any longer, it was precious to him. Just like Tony had grown to be.

Tony would go through so much in his life. He would have to lose his parents without getting a chance to say goodbye. He would have to be tortured for months in a cave, lose the man who had saved his life in more ways than one, be betrayed by a would-be father figure. He would have to become an Avenger, to face Steve himself, an uncaring version who didn't know just how kind and caring Tony truly was. He would have to lose his team, his found family, would have to face the world on his own yet again. He would have to watch the world fall into destruction, gain a child but be forced to make the decision to leave that child to save the world yet again.

He would have to die to make sure the world could live.

And he'd have to do it, all of it, on his own.

And that was just how it had to be.

But Steve could at least let him know that he was out there.

And he was so, so proud.


End file.
